


Crash

by theshayshay



Category: Almost Human, Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Gargoyles (TV), Hellboy (Movies), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Supernatural
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Multiple Crossovers, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-27 00:14:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 90,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8379961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshayshay/pseuds/theshayshay
Summary: One would think being the guardian of one’s favourite fictitious characters as a dream job. Enter Lupin.She’s not all that happy playing that very role. It isn’t that glamourous of a job, the hours suck, and oh right. She’s supposed to be dead.  She doesn’t get paid nearly enough for the crap she has to deal with.Part of the 'Left Behind' and 'Dying Light' Universe.





	1. Surprises

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Hahaha—no. I do not, nor will I ever, own any media showcased in this piece of fanfiction. They all belong to their respective creators and owners. The only thing I (barely) own is this piece are the written works and the original characters within it.
> 
> Warnings: There will be cursing, violence, mild nudity, blood, gore, and a few other minor things under the rainbow with this fic.

**Chapter One:  
Surprises**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

_“It’s been a big day, what with the_ abduction _, and all.”  
_**-Simon, “ _Firefly_ ”**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

The village of Berk wasn’t right. There were no cries of its peoples ringing out in the night air. There were no hearths blazing in the heart of every home. The blacksmith shop was cold to the touch, the bellows unused, and the tools clanking gently in the empty wind. Even the ships were abandoned, empty of any occupants, their sails reefed and the lines swaying as they remained moored to the docks. Dragons of every size and colour and shape milled about the homes, creating furrows in the painted wood with their enormous claws, crooning a mourning dirge for their lost riders.

The air was still fresh with their scents, but their home was empty. Even the fluffy, woolly sheep were missing.

Valka stood alone in the center square of the village, looking up the hilly steps that led to Meade Hall. She heard no rallying bellows coming from there, but she mounted the steps all the same. Cloudjumper followed, as quiet as a gentle breeze behind her, a silent sentinel that had her back. The heavy doors took coaxing, but she managed to slip inside, and Cloudjumper nudged it open to permit himself in as well. Valka waited for her eyes to adjust, but it didn’t take them long.

Inside was just as empty as the village and the homes that crawled atop the hills they inhabited. The smoky remnants of the torches hung heavy in the air, long after they had been snuffed out.

Everything was just as Valka remembered it last.

Except…what was that?

Valka narrowed her eyes, grip tightening on her crook as she crept closer, adopting a lower profile as she snuck between long tables. Everything was as it was the night before, when the village was filled with life—except the villagers were now missing. Her son was missing. Toothless was missing. Her future daughter-in-law was missing. Valka stopped suddenly when she saw what it was that was amiss, lying in the middle of Meade Hall and she rushed forward.

Another person. The first soul she’s seen. Cloudjumper hummed louder, slinking close behind as Valka dropped to her knees when she was close enough. She hesitated on touching them at first, taken aback once she was near. They were unconscious, lying on their backside, but clearly alive.

It was a young woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties, and her garments were the most un-Viking set of clothes Valka has ever laid eyes on in her life. Her top was cut off at the shoulders, showing off an array of scars leading all the way down from shoulders to wrists. And on her head—a pair of wolf ears, a tail sprouting out her backside and her feet were paws. Valka stared for a long time, unsure of what to make of her.

Valka stared, stricken with a mixture of worry, fascination, and awe. What manner of beast was she?

Her questions fled from her mind when the young woman stirred and slowly but surely, rolled over to her side away from the older woman, grumbling away and rubbing at her head. The wolf ears flicked and twitched, showing that yes indeed, they really were attached to her head.

The woman froze suddenly, back stiff and shoulders drawn taut as she glanced over her shoulder at Valka. A few wordless, awkward seconds passed between them before the woman squawked loudly and scrambled to her feet—paws, Valka corrected herself—and tumbled right back down onto her buttocks, every strand of fur on her tail standing on end in response. Valka jumped herself, her staff brought up and thrust forward. Cloudjumper howled, the air rumbling heavily with his very voice.

“Who are you? Where are the villagers? What have you done with them?”

Fury began to seep into her, white-hot and powerful, like the burst of a dragon’s flame.

The woman flung her hands forward, waving them in surrender.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold on a second, lady! I have _no_ fucking idea what you’re talking about, all right? Just—put the stick down and tell your big guy—or is it a girl? Fuck it, your—holy shit, that’s a dragon. Okay, cool, I think I can work with that. Um…tell your dragon to stand down. I seriously don’t know what you’re going on about.”

Valka narrowed her eyes. Cloudjumper continued to rumble menacingly. The woman flicked her gaze—mismatched, her left eye a bright gold and her right eye a smoky blue-grey—between Valka and Cloudjumper, her wolf ears pressed firmly against her head. There was concern and fascination written plainly on her face, but no fear, strangely. She began to stare longer periods of time at Cloudjumper, eyes raking over his powerful form until she seemed to forget about Valka entirely.

“That’s…that’s a dragon…isn’t it?” She finally inquired, a quiet awe filling her voice. Valka stared at the woman, a moment of confusion stealing away with her.

“Yes, it is. And you haven’t answered my questions. What have you done with my village and my people? _My_ _son_?”

She spat out the last with a bite to it, like a steel blade, but the woman showed no concern. If anything, she looked more annoyed now.

“Look, lady. I _did_ answer you. I have no idea what you’re talking about. And another thing—where the hell am I? No, really. I don’t know.”

Valka narrowed her eyes at the woman, but the rumbling growl from Cloudjumper lessened considerably. She turned her head only a fraction to glance at the Stormcutter. Slowly, she straightened herself up and lifted her staff from the woman’s direction and coolly assessed her a little more closely.

“You…don’t know where you are? Truly?”

The woman’s ears, in return, peeled themselves away from her head and back upright as she nodded.

“Yes. I’m being very clear on that point. I have no idea where I am, who you are, or what’s going on. I literally just woke up on the floor of this…” She glanced around. “Place. I don’t know—what is this place?”

Valka considered her for a moment longer.

“You’re in the Meade Hall, in the center of the Village of Berk.”

“Berk? Where’s that?”

“Do you truly not know where you are?” Valka pressed more stringently. She exchanged a glance with Cloudjumper.

“Not a damned clue.”

Valka eyed her with more scrutiny. “Where do you hail from?”

“Um…SoCal. Southern California. Los Angeles area.” The woman answered, scratching the back of her head. Valka noticed her tail was beginning to smooth out, but it was still long, large, and bushy.

“I’ve never heard of such places.”

“I’ve never heard of Berk, so we’re square.”

“So we are.” Valka conceded grudgingly. She allowed a pause to pass between them. “Tell me—do you remember what you were doing before you awoke here?”

“I…” The woman’s voice trailed off and her brow furrowed in puzzlement. “I was…coming home. I was…at war. I think. It’s…kind of fuzzy, but I-I was…flying in from deployment. And then there was gunshots. People—people running. Screaming.”

A far off look stole over the woman’s face, her eyes distant and glassy. “I remember the gunman. But not everything and then he…shot me.” She reached up suddenly, tapping at the side of her left temple. “Right here.” She blinked several times and drew a long breathe, bringing her confused gaze back to bear on Valka. “I should be dead right now.”

Valka gaped at her openly, unsure of what to make of the woman’s mutterings. It made no sense, what she was saying. What war was she speaking of?

“Where is this place again?”

Valka blinked. “It’s one of many isles that are a part of the Barbaric Archipelago.”

The woman stared at her dumbly.

“The…Barbaric…” She shook her head, bringing a hand to her face. “I’m sorry, the what now? That doesn’t…sound like an actual place. Where, exactly, on a world map would I find this place? Is that…easier to answer? Like, are we close to America? Or Europe?”

Valka stared right back, feeling just as stupid. Or perhaps it wasn’t stupidity that was striking her in the moment, but just plain confusion.

“I…don’t believe we’re anywhere close to answering one another.”

“Possibly not.” The woman cocked her head to the side, and she almost seemed to perk up, if the tentative smile she offered the older woman was anything to go by. She extended her hand out toward her and she could see that the other woman’s hand was tipped with claws. “I’m…I’m Lupin.”

Valka waited, cautious as ever, before she crept closer and carefully took the other woman’s hand in her own. Lupin squeezed, her smaller hand giving Valka’s a vigorous pump or two.

“Valka.”

“Okay, Valka,” Lupin expelled a breath, glancing up at the dragon still hovering behind Valka. “And him?”

“Cloudjumper.”

“Cloudjumper. All right. Hello there.”

Cloudjumper huffed back, tilting his head and blinked one eye and then the other, lowing softly.

“I think…we might need to look at a map so we can get on the right page.”

“I believe you may be right.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Valka brought Lupin to a home she hasn’t seen in nearly twenty years, before she was reunited with her people, her son, her village. It was just as empty now as it was earlier that morning when she awoke and found the village of Berk empty save for the dragons.

Hiccup had a map in the house, a compiled and detailed one, with pages continuously added on for every newly discovered island, glacier, and spit of land he and Toothless explored. She wished she could believe, if she told herself enough times, that he was simply on yet another excursion doing just that. Deep in her heart, however, she knew this to be a false tale to make herself feel better. Something was just so wrong and so strange. This woman’s odd tale was only enforcing that.

Valka brought out the map, carefully unfolding each page and smoothing it out with care on the heavy oak dining table. When it was completely out, she presented it to the woman with a sweeping hand.

“This is the Barbaric Archipelago. We are here,” Valka poked at the island of Berk. The woman furrowed her brow.

“Are those _runes_?”

“Yes.”

“As in, Norse runes?”

“Yes,” Valka repeated, this time a little more slowly.

“Wait…you—are you a _Viking_?”

“Yes.”

“…huh. Okay then. That’s…huh.”

“Is there something wrong with my being a Viking?”

“You should be speaking Norse.”

“I _am_ speaking Norse.”

“No, you’re speaking English.”

“That grating language the Anglo-Saxons speak?”

Lupin scowled a little, her ears pressing back against her head and her tail puffing up slightly.

“I…think something is wrong here.”

“Oh, you don’t say?”

Lupin scowled a bit more, but seemed to be biting back a retort and instead turned her attention to the assorted parchment before her. Her expression melted away into pure fascination and she reached out, gently brushing her fingertips against the pages.

“We’ll worry about language barriers suddenly being lifted and we’re somehow speaking one another’s mother tongue to one another later on. One thing at a time. Do you have any more paper? And something I can write with?”

Valka nodded and went to fetch the requested items. When she came back, she found Lupin staring carefully around Valka’s home quietly. She stooped over, plucking something off the wooden floorboards and turned it over in her hands, enthrallment plastered over her face. Valka instantly recognized what the other woman had picked up: a black scale from Toothless’ hide. A shaft of sunlight peeking through the cracks of the window shutters struck it just right, giving it an iridescent obsidian shimmer.

Lupin turned back to Valka, flipping the scale over the tops of her fingers like one would a coin. Valka carefully pushed Hiccup’s map to the side, and placed a few pieces of parchment on the table, alongside one of Hiccup’s many charcoal sticks. Lupin stood beside Valka and the first thought that crossed the older woman’s head was, _So short, like a child!_

She barely reached Valka’s shoulder, if she didn’t count those pointed triangular ears atop Lupin’s head. The second thought lanced through her first mere moments after glancing at the scars that littered the smaller woman’s shoulders. Raking claw marks and massive bites have left their mark on her body, as well as the long, pale scar on her face were signs of a hardened life.

Valka turned her attention to what Lupin was doing, shaking away the questions that kept prying their way into her head.

Steady, practiced hands were lightly sketching out misshapen forms on the parchment, unrecognizable at first until familiarity began to slowly dawn on Valka. The coastlines were familiar to her. It wasn’t perfect, but it was generally enough for her to identify.

“The mainland.”

“Europe,” Lupin simply replied. “So…if you’re a Viking, than that means we’re…hmm.”

Lupin took another parchment, and repeated the process, this time drawing the coastline of unfamiliar territory. Valka stared with a growing frown tugging at her lips as she watched the other woman finish off sketching the form of some untouched land she wasn’t acquainted with. Valka carefully picked the parchment up, staring over the bloated mass.

“What territory is this?”

“Well…up here, this is Canada. We’re probably a lot closer to these coastlines here, to the west,” Lupin motioned to the northeastern section of the coastlines. Valka has heard of raiding parties extending out to some untouched wilderness to the west before, but the Hairy Hooligans have never ventured that far out. They’ve raided and traded away to those in the southeast more often than naught, as it was closer to the Barbaric Archipelago.

“Down here, however, is America. Or the United States, whichever. There’s, ah, fifty territories in total, and I’m…from way over here. To the far west, on the other coast.” Lupin motioned on the parchment, tapping delicately to the aforementioned coastline. “Below our country, is Mexico, Central America, and that prime piece of land down there is South America.”

“I’ve never heard of such places before.”

“So I’ve gathered.” Lupin paused thoughtfully, meeting Valka’s gaze. “I’m going to take a very wild guess here and say that we’re not exactly on the same page anymore. Or even the same century.”

“What?”

“The Vikings don’t _exist_ anymore. Not-not in my…time period.”

“What does that _mean_? I don’t understand.” Valka just wanted things to make _sense_. Perhaps she was dreaming of this entire encounter. She hoped she was, because that meant she was bound to wake soon.

“Valka, either you’re in my century, or I’m in yours. It sounds insane, but I’m starting to think we’re in the middle of something weirder than weird right now and it’s not the good kind of weird, either.” Lupin pulled a face, looking vaguely displeased. “Frankly, I’m starting to think it’s a shitty kind of weird. The kind of weird you can’t wash off your hands of.”

The older woman gawked at the smaller woman openly before she burst out laughing. The absolute bluntness of her entire statement was just so ridiculous, she couldn’t help it. Lupin looked unamused as she stared on until Valka’s laughter petered out.

“What? I think I can prove it.”

“How?”

“Show me how to fly on one of those dragons and we’ll make for the mainland—Scotland or Britain or Ireland, or wherever’s closest.”

“That’s days away,” Valka replied, skepticism rising high in her voice.

“Do we have any fast dragons?”

Valka’s stomach twisted like a knife had plunged itself in it, sharp and painful as she thought of Hiccup and Toothless.

“No,” she said quietly, hoarsely. “No, they are…gone. We’ll have to make do with the dragons we have.” She thought for a moment. “It would be easier if we took only one dragon, though.”

“If…if you say so.”

“I do.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Cloudjumper proved, once again, to be a steadfast companion in transport. He carried both Valka and Lupin with little trouble to the northern shores of a country Lupin called ‘Scotland’ within three days’ time. It was a brisk, yet chilly spring night. Valka didn’t want to risk being seen, so they kept their travels strictly on a night schedule.

“There’s a trading port a few miles up along the coast,” Valka cried above the howl of the wind, more for Lupin’s sake than her own.

“I have no clue what’s what in this place, I just know if either of us sees something we’re familiar with, we’ll have our answer.”

Lupin, strangely, would not tell Valka what she would consider ‘familiar’ to herself. If anything, Valka was almost considering her a mad woman, but with the absolute conviction and earnestness she expressed her theory—it was difficult to ignore that passion.

Valka had Cloudjumper land in the outermost hills away from the port village. She and Lupin gathered their packs and within minutes, were hiking toward civilization. The closer they came to Thurso, the more Valka felt her heart rise up like a hard lump in her throat whilst her stomach both twisted in agony and dropped away in anxiety.

Thurso was not as she remembered, even if it has been quite some time since her last commute. Change was inevitable. It was human nature, but this…this was much too much.

The glow of lights that illuminated the streets were not lanterns or campfires or hearths. The roads were not of compacted dirt or cobbled stones. The homes were not of comely wooden structures nor were they of sturdy brick, mortar, or stone.

This was a town completely unlike any she’s come across before and it wasn’t long before Valka simply stopped walking to gawk with wide eyes and a pounding heart. The longer she stared, the more details her eyes picked out that marked the stranger things so unlike what she knew. Even in the dark of the night, Valka could see that this place was changed so much, she was beginning to believe Lupin’s wild tale of misplaced centuries. It wasn’t long before Lupin noticed her companion had dropped away from her side.

“I…”

Lupin slinked back up the road toward Valka, concern written plainly on her face. She gave a glance over her shoulder to the town at her backside, then returned her attention to Valka.

“We don’t have to go down there, if you don’t want.”

Valka’s mouth grew dry and it took her a few precious moments to remember how to speak.

“No. No, I…I want to see.”

“Um…well, then I guess it’s a good thing it’s really late. I think you’d get more than a few stares.”

Valka’s question was answered before she even asked as she took one look at her attire. From the way Lupin phrased her comment, Valka would quite possibly stand out like a sore thumb, whereas Lupin herself would most likely blend in easily. She had even somehow hidden her animal features away. Her feet were bare and she so much shorter without her paws aiding in her height. Despite the night’s chill, Lupin didn’t seem to notice.

“Is there a tailor I can visit, to fit me with new clothing?”

“Not at this hour.” Lupin replied, hesitated, continued, “We can wander around for a little while, if you’d like. While everyone’s asleep and nobody can see. I think we already know which century we’re in now, and…I dunno, I don’t want you getting…overwhelmed.”

Again, she hesitated. “And I’d like to get going before the night’s over, if that’s okay? We don’t have dragons in this century. People might…freak out.”

“’Freak out’?”

“You know…go crazy, and not in the good way. Some might think it’s amazing, but then there’s the people that would want to trap Cloudjumper. Cage him. Hurt him.”

Valka’s gaze darkened as a familiarity in that sense came over her. She nodded, realizing it was perhaps very sage advice. There was no point in lingering, as tempting as it was to explore this new world.

Lupin led the way into Thurso. It has grown, Valka noted immediately. They treaded along a smoothly paved road—a sidewalk, Lupin commented. She pointed out the darker, wider band of road running parallel to the sidewalk and told Valka that was where cars and trucks drove.

“There’s a car. That metal thing with the wheels.”

It was a strange apparatus, and painted as brightly as a beetle’s shell; dark green with a streak of black in the right light.

“They go faster than a horse can run. Some can go even faster than Cloudjumper can fly.”

“Amazing,” Valka said, unable to contain the awe in her voice. They pressed further into the port village, passing by tall buildings and homes alike. They passed beneath pole beams as tall as Cloudjumper, if he stood straight up, with glowing tips at the end.

“Electricity will become a thing, but uh…it’ll be long after the Vikings.”

“What happened? To our people?”

“I…don’t really remember that part of my history, it wasn’t really covered in my education,” Lupin said sheepishly, offering an apologetic, awkward smile to Valka. “If I had my phone still, I’d look it up.”

Valka reserved her questions for a later time. As much as she wanted to know about this place, this century, at the same time, she had no interests in immersing herself in the culture of this new world. She had many and more questions building up inside her, bubbling away, and against her better judgement she finally blurted out, “How do I get home?”

Lupin lifted her gaze away from a glass display of a storefront—a clothing store, from the looks of it, with statues wearing clothes and shoes. They were gaudy and flimsy looking garments, offering no protection from the cold and the damp like a pelt of furs and wool might. In that moment, her face had morphed from vaguely curious at the display to disappointingly pity and contrite as she stared at the older woman.

“I…don’t know, Valka. This is kind of new to me. I’ve never met someone from another century like this before. I’m sorry.”

“Perhaps we can be of help,” a new voice intruded upon them, bright and cheery. It immediately set Lupin to bristling and Valka reached for a staff she did not have on her person. Lupin insisted that the older woman leave it behind with Cloudjumper and reluctantly, she had done so. Now she was regretting the decision.

“I didn’t even hear them. Where the hell did they come from?” Lupin muttered darkly. Just as Valka had left her staff behind, Lupin had somehow hidden away her more feral features to look normal—except for the bare feet.

A few dozen yards further down the sidewalk from the two women stood two men. Both were dressed smartly in black, all sharp angles and straight lines were Valka’s impression. The two men approached at a nonchalant pace, passing beneath shadows between the streetlights. When they came underneath one, Valka noticed immediately that the two men were identical.

Twins were a rare commodity amongst Vikings and those from the mainland alike.

They were handsome, to say the least. Dark hair that was only slightly tousled; sharp yet endearingly angled faced; thin at the waist and broad in the shoulders, but nothing compared to Viking standards. They were closer in build to Hiccup than anything, if Valka was to be honest. But they were taller than her son, she noted as well.

The two men stopped when they were close enough to reach out and touch her or Lupin. Lupin was still bristling, and she retreated a few steps away. The man on the left was cheerier in countenance, while the other had a more neutral, if slightly bored, look upon his face.

Left smiled broadly between them, his dark eyes bright as he looked between the two women. He appeared to not be offended at all by Lupin’s pointed retreat.

“Well now! I was expecting you both to be here at a much later date, but this works out rather splendidly!”

“And who the hell are you? The Creep Brigade? How did you know we’d be here, were you following us somehow? Or were you just conveniently waiting for us in the town?”

Valka was beginning to feel a sense of unease stealing over her as well. She trusted Lupin’s immediate suspicion of the new arrivals. She was reminded rather strangely of a dragon’s behavior and it was startlingly refreshing to trust a person’s instinct.

“Oh, no, no, no! Nothing of the sort. We teleported here.”

From the look on Lupin’s startled face, there was familiarity in the answer presented.

“You…have teleporters. That’s…”

“Chimera Dynamics’ strictly monitored technology, yes. One of the perks of working for the company. We have access to teleporters and more.”

“Chimera Dynamics? Wait…you two work for Xerxes?”

“Indeed,” the man on the right answered this time, and he sounded mildly irritated. “We have been monitoring you both ever since you left Berk.”

“You’ve been following us?” Valka didn’t like this. Lupin scowled, the muscles in her tight jaw were twitching as though she would like nothing more than to lash out and tear the two men apart.

“Tracking you, yes. We didn’t know where you would end up, so we did the minimal and waited, before teleporting here to meet with you.”

“Why?” Lupin asked sharply before stopping altogether, realization dawning on her features. “Chimera Dynamics has something to do with Valka and that Viking village being in modern day times, doesn’t it? But…how? And for what reason? Just who the hell are you guys?”

“Ah, how rude of us. Yes, of course—I am Scribe, and this is my younger twin brother, Scribble.” The amiable of the two men introduced them in turn, and gave a short bow at the waist, smiling all the while.

“You’re older than me by only seven minutes.” Scribble muttered, rolling his eyes.

“I’m still seven minutes older, dear brother, so you’d best remember that.” Scribe ‘ _tsked’_ his brother, then turned back to Valka and Lupin. “And to answer your other questions, Miss Ferus…yes, Chimera Dynamics had a hand in the stranger things happening, although public knowledge is…limited.”

“Of _course_ it is,” Lupin scoffed, looking skeptical and suspicious of the two men. “You’re avoiding answering me.”

The two men shared a look—one of hesitance and reluctance.

“We have several things we need to discuss, and one of those topics include what you, Miss Ferus, were doing in that village in the first place. And Miss Haddock,” Scribe turned to Valka and she stiffened when his pale eyes came to rest on her. “You have questions as well, I can see them already lining themselves up in your eyes. We’ll do our best to accommodate that.”

Valka remained unconvinced, but what choice did either of them have?

 _Plenty,_ her mind supplied, working quickly. _We could return to Berk. I don’t trust them. There’s something wrong with this whole thing._

Her instinct has rarely been wrong and she was feeling it rear its head up in full force, screaming at her to not let her guard down around these two men. Judging from the guarded expression on Lupin’s face, she was feeling similarly. There was a kind of kinship in that moment between them, when Lupin met Valka’s gaze with one of her own, a look that said she wasn’t completely on board with all they were saying either.

“Now, I know that this is rather unorthodox—but Xerxes has no idea we’re here. If he knew anything of this meeting, it…would not go over well when we returned to headquarters.”

Open astonishment spread across Lupin’s face in that moment. She narrowed her eyes, appraising the two men in a hesitantly new light.

“So you’re disobeying an order,” she ventured, and they nodded. A grin split across her face and a rather mischievous light grew in her eyes. “Shiny. So why don’t you hurry up and tell us what the hell is going on here and how we can fix it. Starting with how I’m not dead and we end with how Valka and that Viking village and all those dragons got here in modern times.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**


	2. Guardian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Hahaha—no. I do not, nor will I ever, own any media showcased in this piece of fanfiction. They all belong to their respective creators and owners. The only thing I (barely) own is this piece are the written works and the original characters within it.
> 
> Warnings: There will be cursing, violence, mild nudity, blood, gore, and a few other minor things under the rainbow with this fic.

**Guardian**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

_“The world is a fairy tale; we are its guardians.”  
_ **-Dejan Stojanovic**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**  
  


“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“I am not.”

“So…let me get this straight…your fucking company staged my death? Your fucking boss greenlighted this and for what? WHY?!”

To say London “Lupin” Ferus was livid would have been an absolute understatement. The very air was charged with heat and it simply shimmered around her form. It was just a step away from igniting and the only thing that would have any chance of surviving an inferno would be her. She, after all, had the advantage of being a pyrokinetic. This was a fact that came to the top of Scribe’s mind as he stared down the young woman sitting across from them, glaring at him with matching golden eyes. Even with her more wolfish features hidden away, it was hard not to see the animal in her.

_Ah. Of course. How could I forget, she’s not human. Not one drop of blood in her has been human for several years. I’d best tread carefully with werewolves; they aren’t called ‘Wrath’s Incarnate’ in this world for nothing._

Scribe leaned forward a little, taking a measured breath. To be honest, he was scared of the woman sitting across from him. She was so many things, and merciful wasn’t one of them. She had a track record for violence ever since she was a child, and in the last few years, has been enlisted with the armed forces. It’s only escalated since her deployment overseas.

 _That’s all ended now, thanks to Xerxes,_ he thought bitterly. He wasn’t a fan of this plan, shanghaiing her into working for the man. Not one bit. But if he were to defy Xerxes in any way, the man would do worse than kill him and Scribble. Much worse.

_But now I’m wondering whom I should be more afraid of: Xerxes or her._

“I can’t force you to understand, but I can try to explain,” Scribe started off slowly, leaning away when the heat became nearly unbearable to stand. The fire in her eyes hadn’t died either. If anything, it was growing with every passing second that he delayed. “Xerxes wanted your services, for his own purposes.”

“Why?”

“He’s had his eye on you for quite some time.”

“But _why_? Why _me_? What the hell is really going on?”

“What is going on, is Xerxes paid someone to stage your death, but it didn’t go as planned. You were in a coma for some time as a result. And over that course of time, Chimera Dynamics managed to…” Scribe paused momentarily, thinking. “Do you know of the multiverse theory?”

The thunderous look on her face dispelled, if only for a couple of seconds. Even behind her guarded expression, Scribe could see the gears working in her head before she answered mutely with a nod.

“Good. That’s…that’s good. What I’m about to explain is…strange.”

“You don’t think my last three days has been strange? I woke up in a Viking village, its people except for Valka gone, and its only other inhabitants are dragons. I flew to Scotland on the back of a giant dragon. I just found out my death was staged by one of the richest and most successful businessmen on this planet, for reasons I’ve yet to be told. I think ‘strange’ is the least of my worries at this point.”

“How succinctly put, and I suppose you’re right. Well, no use delaying the inevitable.” Scribe cleared his throat, suddenly realizing that the heat wave in the room had gone down considerably. That was good. The golden hue in her right eye has also died down some, and he could see hints of her natural eye colour. “We—and by we, I really mean Chimera Dynamics and Xerxes—have managed to open a gateway to other universes parallel to our own.”

Lupin stared at him for nearly a full minute without saying anything. It was awkward and seemed to last an eternity. In the interim of her silence, he reached out to his brother, tentative at first when he received no response to his mental prodding.

_‘How are things on your end?’_

_‘About as well as yours, I suppose. We’ve upset her world and turned it upside down—and she’s not even in it,’_ came Scribble’s clipped reply. Scribe could feel the strain in his brother’s connection. They were both exhausted and this impromptu meeting was only the cherry on top of an incredibly stressful series of weeks. He was drawn from his thoughts when Lupin’s voice cut through them and he had to sever the connection with his brother.

“Valka is a Viking. That doesn’t really scream ‘parallel universe’ to me. That screams more like…time travel.”

“A Viking woman who rides upon the backs of dragons. Dragons never existed in this world’s past. But in her universe, they once did.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I am not.” He sighed and leaned forward again. “Miss Ferus, I want to be honest with you. We were against everything Xerxes has been pursuing. Your staged death, the meddling of other worlds…”

“Why exactly does he have an interest in Valka’s world? And why did he stage my death? You still haven’t answered that, not really. He could have bought out my contract with the government, he’s got fucking bank. I know he’s rolling in some serious cash, with a company his size.”

That certainly was an understatement and they both knew it.

“It’s not Valka’s world he was particularly interested in, and Xerxes has had an invested interest in those who are not…human. Of course, this isn’t public knowledge, but this is something you should know.”

Lupin narrowed her eyes at him until they were nothing but glittering golden slits.

“’Not human’? Not sure what you’re getting at.” Of course she would pretend to be human. It’s the only thing that’s kept her alive all these years. Holding it in and not letting others get too close. It was a survival mechanism. _And one that’s failed once before, now that James is dead._

“Miss Ferus, do you know what I do with the Chimera Dynamics?”

She said nothing. She simply stared with that suspicious glare locked on him, watching his every move with incredible scrutiny. One wrong move that she didn’t like, and she’d be on him faster than he could react.

“I recruit mutants to contribute to the world behind the safety of Chimera Dynamics’ walls. I know what you are. I know you are a pyrokinetic mutant, you were born with the mutant gene. I know you were bitten by a werewolf several years ago, in your first year in the military in fact. It’s my job to know these things.” He closed his eyes and took a long, measured breathe before continuing. “And now that I’ve told you all that, I feel obligated to tell you that all of what I do is also a lie. Those people do not survive for very long within the walls of the company. Then again, if people knew what you were, you would not survive long on the streets, either. It’s incredibly dangerous for your kind.”

She continued to say nothing, but the suspicion in her eyes was gone, replaced instead with a guardedness that belied her bewilderment. He took advantage of her silence and pressed onward.

“Miss Ferus…Xerxes has an especially vested interest in you, as I’ve mentioned before, largely in part to your inhuman status, but obtaining you from the government’s hold through legal channels was not an option he wanted to take.”

“So he paid someone to ‘kill’ me instead.” The malice in her voice was palpable and biting like the edge of a steel blade.

“He wanted to sever any connections you may have had on the outside. Your family, your friends, your work associates.”

“He can’t even come to me first to propose working at the company after my enlistment. Oh no, he had to go the dramatic route and have my death staged _in public_.” Her jaw tightened in rage. “What if I decided to not follow whatever agenda he has for me?”

The heat was back again in force and it was sweltering. He was beginning to sweat again and already, he could feel beads of moisture rolling down the back of his neck, along his brow, and down his chest and back.

“Miss Ferus…Xerxes will stop at nothing to keep you within Chimera Dynamics’ clutches. Once he became aware of your existence, he was determined to stake a claim on you.”

“I am not some object that he can just claim! How is it that he still has a business when he’s kidnapping poor mutant shmucks off the streets like this, or worse, like he did with me? What kind of fucking nutjob is your boss, exactly? Does he have some kind of condition that requires massive meds that he is in dire need of or something and isn’t taking at all? Jesus fucking Christ, this is insane!”

“Don’t you think we aren’t aware of that ourselves? We are trapped playing his game just as much as you and Valka are!”

She stared at him in surprise but she wasn’t completely unperturbed. He sucked in a shaky breath, and tried calming his trembling hands. The room felt entirely too small, all of a sudden. Too constricting, too suffocating, with the walls pressing in close. He wanted nothing more than to get out into the open.

“Xerxes is not a force to be trifled with or taken lightly. He has money and influence and power. He cannot be touched.”

“You have no fucking clue what I’m capable of, and if he knew, he’d be fucking right to be scared of me. Get me in a room with him alone and I’ll show you whose untouchable.”

“I have no doubt you’d back your words, Miss Ferus.” He resisted the urge to sigh in exasperation and instead schooled his face back into its neutral mask. “But I managed to back you, for a different job altogether, instead of the proposed position he had lined up for you.”

“Do I want to know what that original job was?”

“No. No, you do not.”

She examined him briefly, before sitting back in her chair and tipping her head up, just for the sake of peering down her nose at him.

“Why should I do anything for any of you fuckers? Your boss had my death staged. You and your brother willingly recruit mutants to their deaths. Everyone I know thinks I’m dead. What’s to stop me from getting up and walking out of here and going back home to ruin all that for you and yours?”

Regret made his stomach churn and twist into painful little knots with what he had to say next.

“If you leave, Xerxes will have your family and anyone else you’ve cared about in your life killed.”

“He can’t do that.”

“I think he could accomplish having everyone you love killed with frightening ease and get away with it. And no one would be able to prove it was connected to him or Chimera Dynamics. He’s had everyone believing you’ve been dead for the past six months and counting.”

The wall came down at last and a real moment of genuine shock spread across her face.

“That…that’s how long it’s been?”

“It has been six months since the incident at the airport and if Xerxes had his way completely, you wouldn’t be here, talking so freely with me.”

“But I just…woke up, three days ago.”

“A coma. You were recovering.”

“How convenient. A coma. And then, what, I was dumped on Berk?”

“When you say it like that, you make it sound terrible.”

“What part of this entire convoluted ordeal _isn’t_ terrible?”

“You have a point, Miss Ferus,” Scribe conceded with a tired, rueful smile. She studied him carefully for nearly a minute, mulling over everything.

“If I do whatever job you managed to land me, and I complete it—I want to go back home. No strings attached, no secret clauses that rope me back into anything Chimera Dynamics related. Nothing.”

“I…I can’t promise that.”

“Then we don’t have a deal.”

A lapse of panic clutched him tightly in its vice-like grip in that moment.

 _‘I’m losing her,’_ he relayed to his brother.

 _‘Then get her back, we can’t afford to lose her.’_ Scribble snapped right back _. ‘I’ve got the other one in the bag for now, but she might back out if we lose Ferus. And there’s no telling what will happen if Xerxes learns we were here without permission and contacted her and she’s already fleeing from him. He’ll kill us all.’_

 _No,_ Scribe thought to himself. _He’ll do much worse to us._

Bringing himself back, he blinked at Lupin. She stood, putting as much force into that movement alone, so much so that it knocked her chair to the ground and made the table between them shudder violently.

“I want _nothing_ to do with Chimera Dynamics. I want nothing to do with you two bastards. And I certainly want nothing to do with Xerxes. If he wants me, the coward can come at me himself.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he stood as well, his hands shaking as he strode after the smaller woman, who was already halfway across the room. “ _Wait_. Miss Ferus—”

The heat wave turned into actual fire so quickly he didn’t even have time to blink. It shimmered and danced, bright red and gold and orange, placing itself between herself and him and it twisted into a vaguely animalistic shape. Lupin peered at him between the flames with a cool look on her face. She was barely even trying.

“I’m going home. And if my family gets hurt before I make it there, or they get so much as a hangnail when I return, I’m coming after you two and then I’m going after your fucking boss. You got me?”

“Miss Ferus, what about Miss Haddock and the dragons?”

He had to raise his voice, even though he knew she could hear him, even if he had whispered. Her sensitive ears had amazing range for all manner of decibels and frequencies. But he accomplished what he had been aiming for: her hand on the doorknob stopped turning and she craned her head to glance at him, if only just barely.

“What about her?”

“She’ll be lost in this world.”

“Look, she seems like a nice lady. And don’t get me wrong, I appreciate her getting me here and also, not letting her dragon munch on my head. But she’s a grown ass woman, she doesn’t need me hanging around to babysit her. She can take care of herself, she doesn’t need someone telling her what to do.”

“But that’s exactly the job we had intended for you!”

Her grip on the knob tightened, but she didn’t move. Instead she stared at him, and he realized she was quietly waiting for him to continue.

“Xerxes isn’t going to stop from opening windows to other worlds, now that he’s capable of opening them at all. And sometimes, people slip through the cracks.”

“Then send her back through the gateway.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“It’s—it’s just not. And he’s not concerned with sending others back home. He’s looking for something.”

“Meaning what?”

“We…we don’t know.”

“You’re not winning any arguments by keeping things from me. You know this, right?”

Scribe was at a loss. He wished she would just go along with this and instead, she wanted to play twenty questions, analyzing every sordid detail and then spit on them for good measure before snubbing what she’s been told. He couldn’t tell her everything, not at this time. At the moment, he was too busy trying to keep her alive, couldn’t she _see_ that?

“Xerxes is looking for a world. A very particular universe, but he doesn’t have…” He twirled his hand, struggling to find the right way to describe what he had on the tip of his tongue. “’Coordinates’ is not the right term, but it’s the closest contrast I can offer you. Until then, he has no interest in sending anyone or anything back until he has connected to this particular universe.”

“He’s making a mess and refusing to clean up after himself until he gets his way. How childish.”

“If you believe I agree with the way he’s going about it all, then you’re sadly mistaken. My brother and I have tried to convince him he needs to send Miss Haddock, the dragons, and their home island back to where they belong for the last several days. He’s refused at every turn.”

“You’ve done an incredibly shitty job.” The dazzling display of flames hadn’t lessened. In fact, Scribe had to step further away, the heat was blazing and he was roasting in his suit being so near.

“Are you not comprehending anything I have told you this evening? If you leave, your loved ones _will die_ , and you will never make it to Xerxes to exact any kind of misguided revenge for their deaths. You will be taken in, _by force_ , and they won’t let you see the light of day again. Miss Haddock and many more will become displaced from their homes—they will have nothing and no one to help them!”

“What do I look like, a therapy animal? What the hell do you want me to do about it?”

“We want you to become their guardian!”

The fire between them diminished significantly, and then suddenly, it was gone. Lupin narrowed her gaze, her body stiff and rigid. He wasn’t sure if she was preparing to run or fight, but he had a feeling it was leaning towards the latter. She always was more of a fighter than a runner.

“Why?”

“You, Miss Ferus…you are more than qualified to protect her and anyone else that may end up displaced from their home world. Even if it meant protecting them from the likes of Xerxes himself. He hasn’t an inkling of a clue what forces he is messing with and he doesn’t seem to give a wit, either.”

“What the hell is he looking for? Why is he messing with this multiverse crap?”

“He’s looking for our home.”

That took her completely by surprise. The aggression in her body language completely fled, replaced instead by a slack-jawed awe. If he had a camera, and this situation was a lot lighter than it really was, he would have snapped a photo as a keepsake.

“You should know how it feels, to be away from home and have that feeling crushing down on you, every minute of every day that you’re away from a place of comfort, from people you love. We have been away for _years_. All we want is to go home, but Xerxes is being reckless in the way he’s going about it. We recognize that, and so does he. But unlike us, he just doesn’t care. What I’m asking of you—it is a tremendous task and one we wouldn’t have trusted to anyone we felt who couldn’t handle it. You are more than qualified for the assignment we’re requesting of you. Please…I’m begging you, for the sake of those you care about…don’t walk away. I’m not making threats here, I’m warning you of the dangers of what might happen if you do. It’ll be a decision you’ll come to regret. Xerxes will not hesitate to have them killed. And if he can easily stage your death, how much easier do you believe it would be if he actually wanted to have you killed off, for real?”

She seemed to actually consider this and for once, he could see the concern and reason finally worming its way into her mind.

“How long would I have to do this job?”

The tentative smile he had fell away. “I honestly don’t know,” he answered. “I wish I did, but I don’t. It could be quite some time.”

Lupin stepped away from the door. The scorching heat in the room dropped so much, he actually began to shiver at the sudden lack of warmth.

“If I do this…my family will be safe?”

“Yes. Yes, they will be. Of course.”

“And if I do this—”

“I can’t promise everything under the sun, Miss Ferus. But I can try to sever all connections Chimera Dynamics would have with you after you’ve completed your obligations with the company. It’s the best alternative I can offer you at this time, until I have something more concrete to give you at a later date.”

The clenched shoulders and tight jaw and fire in Lupin’s eyes were all back again. But, just as quickly as they assimilated themselves in her body, they fled and petered out. Lupin tightened her fists at her side, indecision tearing at her from the inside out before she grudgingly nodded. “I want it on paper when you work it out. No fancy mumbo-jumbo legalese-talk. I shouldn’t need an advanced law degree to avoid getting taken advantage of, you feel me?”

“I-I think I do.”

“Shiny. Fine. I’ll do it. But if I suspect something shady is going on, then all bets are off. _Dohn luh ma_?”

“Of course.” Relief never felt any sweeter than hearing this. Every fiber of his being was releasing the tension he’s held for the last several hours. He wanted rest, but sleep was a long ways off before his work was complete.

She was riddled with doubt and mistrust, and he didn’t blame her at all. He hated Chimera Dynamics. He and his brother both did. _But we’ve been immersed with their bloodied politics for years. There’s no washing of our hands of this accursed company, not quickly or easily enough._

And Xerxes was a force to be reckoned with. Lupin had no clue just how powerful a man such as he really was. Her threats would have been as empty as wind to the man, if he were here listening to her spout off her aggressive declarations. She was young and stubborn and scared for her loved ones, however, and Scribe couldn’t blame her.

Scribe had to threaten her family to get her to agree to a job proposition. It wasn’t really him, of course, but the words came from him and he might as well have, with the way she had taken his meaning. They were in danger and she wanted to protect them. He found that noble, but it would have been a wasted effort if she had tried to leave.

All he could do now was hope that Xerxes found their home world and quickly, before too many gateways to other worlds had to be breached. If he were a religious man, Scribe might have even prayed to a god that may or may not have been listening, asking for some divine help in that matter.

_‘It’s done. She’ll do it.’_

He could feel wordless relief relayed back to him in the connection between him and Scribble.

_‘We’ll need to get them back to the island. Should we tell them…?’_

_‘Yes, of course. In time. Just not now. Let’s give them some time to process before we bombard them with more.’_

Scribble hummed back a noncommittal response, more akin to a feeling of agreement made tangible, before his connection faded. He returned his attentions to Lupin.

“I think we should turn in for the night. The rooms are paid for, and my brother and I can share one room, you and Valka can have this one if you’d like—”

“Cloudjumper is still out there. We can’t just leave him hanging out in the hills. He’ll be seen and start a mass panic.”

“Cloudjumper? Ah. Yes, yes, yes. You came by dragon. Hmm. I suppose you’ll need to leave and soon, then. A shame.”

She reached for the doorknob again, and he heard the metal creaking in protest from how tightly she gripped it.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” She scoffed, giving him another glare.

“Wait, wait—there’s…one more thing.”

She narrowed her eyes for the umpteenth time at him and he wondered briefly if that was all she knew how to do with her expressions. She was riddled with suspicion and hard-pressed to take anything at face value. He didn’t blame her.

“What?”

He smiled, yet it was a thin and tentative little thing, fragile and ready to break at another lapse of tension.

“It’s a surprise that I’m sure Valka will appreciate, and perhaps you as well.”

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**


	3. Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: For those who have read Left Behind and Dying Light and are reading this story as well, I'm doubling down on informing you that the official tumblr for that entire 'fic universe is up and running! I've some art posted, a few sideline links as well, and fairly soon I'll be coalescing a playlist on 8tracks that inspired quite a bit of the stories I've worked on! Stay tuned, my lovely readers! Please tune into http://crashed-into-you.tumblr.com/ for more!

**Stranger**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

_“You can love somebody without it being like that. You keep them a stranger, a stranger who’s a friend.”  
_ **-Truman Capote**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Berk was the same as when they had left it; uninhabited by its human occupants, but its dragon population was just fine. In fact, nearly the entire flock rose to the skies to meet them as they came sweeping into the village, a colourful plethora of spines, spikes, and scales.

Lupin wobbled a little on the backside of the dragon that was many times smaller than Cloudjumper.

A Night Fury, Valka had called it, and there was such a reverence in her voice when she named it three days prior. Scribe and Scribble had released seven of them to hers and Valka’s custody. A warehouse at the docks had hidden the dragons for the duration of the meeting and after gathering them up and flying out to rejoin Cloudjumper, they were off, back to Berk. They couldn’t have stayed, even for the rest of the night, in Scotland.

The little Night Fury dove sharply and Lupin yanked hard at the makeshift rope saddle, holding it so tightly her knuckles turned bone-white.

“Hey, hey, HEY! Slow down, or I’m gonna get knocked off!”

_Jesus fucking Christ, what the fuck did I agree to?_

Oh, that’s right. She had agreed to work for the very company that had planned, paid for, and executed a mission to fake her death.

Christ. All she could think about was how hard this was for her parents for the last three days before it hit her suddenly.

_They wouldn’t care. They’ve always been afraid of me. Afraid of what I can do. I could kill people with my brain if I wanted. Set them on fire, boil their blood, roast them from the inside out. And my brother…_

Jared Ferus hasn’t given a rat’s ass for her in years. Not since he left for the army when she was a freshman in high school. The only person that had truly cared about her in recent years had been her fiancé, James Foster.

_And now he’s dead. Did Chimera Dynamics kill him to get to me, just to lure me out of that deployment?_

She wished she had thought of that. If the company was moonlighting in killing people outside of the public eye, she wondered just how far they really were willing to go to get her to work for them.

Her stomach felt hard and heavy like a ball of iron was sitting in it, making her feel sick and she wanted to do nothing but curl up in a corner and never get up. Instead, she forced herself to focus on getting her feet back on the ground. After that, maybe she could find some dark corner to go sulk in.

Before she knew it, the flock had settled, she and Valka had landed, and in tow, they had brought back seven more occupants to live in the empty village. Valka hadn’t spoken much on the trip back. To be fair, Lupin hadn’t either. She had been focused on her own internal dilemma, and hadn’t even checked in with the older woman, to make sure she was all right. She put up a strong front, but the slump in her shoulders and the exhaustion lining her face suggested otherwise.

Valka wordlessly motioned for Lupin to follow and the werewolf did as she was bid, falling into step behind her.

“What did they talk to you about?”

Valka cast a briefly surprised look over her shoulder at Lupin. She turned away, continuing on.

“I’m sure it was much the same as what they told you, I suppose.”

“That…you’re not in your time period. Or your own world.”

Lupin was sure Valka had nodded. She took that as a cue to press on.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? It isn’t your fault I’m here, alone. Again.” Valka shook her head this time. “I had just found out my son was alive. I was welcomed back to Berk—a village that I hadn’t seen in over twenty years prior, after I began living with dragons, and it had changed so much! We used to fight dragons when my son was born, and now…now look at it.”

The Viking woman paused to sweep her crook, pointing it all over the village and Lupin gazed around. Dragons freely milled around the village grounds, some perched on houses, others napping on the ground, and more still flying about in the air, looking for a place to roost. Lupin’s attention was drawn back to Valka when she began speaking again.

“They began living side by side with dragons, all thanks to Hiccup. He showed them that there was another way. A peaceful way. Dragons and Vikings didn’t have to fight and kill one another anymore. He broke a vicious and bloody cycle that’s been going on for hundreds of years. And now…I’ve lost him again.”

“I’m sorry,” Lupin repeated lamely, more quietly this time. “I…I know how it feels to lose someone you love.”

She clenched a fist at her side, remembering James’ face. She pushed down the lump in her throat forcefully, keeping a stoic look plastered on her face when Valka turned around to gaze at Lupin with watery eyes.

“Oh, look at me. I’m sure you don’t want to see an old woman cry.”

“If it’s any consolation, you look pretty good. You look like you’re in your twenties.”

Laughter bubbled out from Valka and she wiped at her eyes. “Now you’re just being silly. Flattering, but silly.”

Lupin offered a tentative smile in return as Valka motioned for them to continue. Something bumped Lupin and stepped on her feet from behind. She glared over her shoulder at the broad face of the Night Fury she had flown in on. The other six were nowhere to be seen.

“Oi. Watch where you’re stepping. Shoo. Go. Go away.”

“I think he likes you.”

“Well, that’s fine and dandy, but I don’t plan on becoming a dragon whisperer. My job, apparently, is to be babysit anyone else like you who ends up here.”

“Is that what they’re having you do?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“It’s complicated.”

Valka hummed. The Night Fury bumped Lupin again. She whirled on the dragon and he retreated, arching his back and spreading his wings in response, mouth gaping to reveal conical teeth in his broad skull.

“Valka—can’t you tell him to back off? He isn’t listening to me.”

“Night Furies are curious. I can’t stop him from indulging in his nature.”

“Well, can you tell him to stop following me?”

“I told you, I think he likes you.”

“Just my luck.”

Valka frowned over her shoulder as they paused at a flight of steps leading to what Lupin now recognized as her home.

“My son is the only one to have a Night Fury as his dragon companion. He’s been looking for more for years. Now we have seven in the village.”

“You’re point?”

“My point, Lupin, is that you have a Night Fury trailing after you like a pup.” She was staring at the werewolf expectantly, waiting for her to fill in the blanks. Lupin saw what it was and didn’t like it, not one bit.

“Valka…I can see where you’re going with this. But I don’t want a ‘dragon companion’. What happens when you and this entire island goes back home, where it belongs? The Night Furies will most likely go back with you as well, and…I’ll go back home. I can’t afford to build ties with any of them. I can’t just keep them here, either. Neither of those are options for me.”

The older woman stared in dismay between Lupin and the miniscule Night Fury lingering behind her, and at Cloudjumper, who was bringing up the rear behind them all. The Stormcutter blinked owlishly down at the Night Fury before him, tilting his head.

“How could you not want a bond with a dragon? I thought you told me there were no dragons in this world of yours?”

“There aren’t, as far as I know. And right now, I’m still processing things. I don’t have time to go prancing around with dragons. Yeah, it’s cool and all, but…I just don’t see how it’ll be easier when the time comes to say goodbye and one of us can’t go anywhere and the other has to. I…I can’t do it. I just can’t.”

Despite how apologetic Lupin sounded, she could see it wasn’t completely reaching Valka. The older woman was looking at her in open disappointment. Wordlessly, she turned to the flight of stairs leading to her home. Cloudjumper slunk up the hill after her, leaving the werewolf behind. When Lupin looked back over her shoulder, the Night Fury was gone.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

The sun was finally setting. The sky was painted a deep bruised colour, and the clouds were bathed in the same purple hues as the sun dipped behind them. It cast the island in cool shadows and many of the dragons were finding places to bed down for the night. Lupin watched as two dragons that were sharing the rooftop with her flutter away to glide down to the ground, leaving her alone. She couldn’t say she was entirely surprised when Valka came slinking up to join her, her steps emitting nearly no noise as she did.

“I’m sorry,” Lupin said after a few minutes of silence passed between them. Valka said nothing, her gaze locked on the distant horizon.

“I…I know I was probably sounding pretty insensitive earlier. Fuck, maybe I am. I’m not exactly the friendliest person you’ll ever meet. I had a friend who once said that people like me are an acquired taste when it comes to personality.” She sighed. “It’s…it’s just…I just have a feeling that if I got too attached, and the time came to split ways…it wouldn’t end up being a pretty goodbye. I wouldn’t be selfish enough to keep anything or anyone here with me if we had the chance to send you back where you belong. And I can’t just…leave this place. Not—not Berk, this isn’t my place, but this world is my home. I don’t want to leave.”

“I can appreciate your reluctance, Lupin. I’m not mad, if that’s what you’re fearing,” Valka replied gently. “I wouldn’t be selfish enough to ask of you to give up your home to come live with us when we return to our proper place. And I can already tell you wouldn’t want to steal way one of our dragons to remain by your side. But while we are all here together, you might have to learn how to cope with the fact that you’re going to be living side by side with them. And you might have to form some bonds. Dragons are mostly social creatures by nature, with few exceptions here and there of course.”

Valka paused, allowing that to sink in. Lupin glanced at her from the corner of her eye for a few seconds. She returned gazing out at the sea. It was mostly calm, with a few choppy waves breaking the monotony of the still and clear surface.

“I’m not asking you to change your whole world overnight. It takes time for some dragons to learn to trust. I’m beginning to get the same feeling from you as well.”

The older woman laughed softly when Lupin offered a vaguely sour look, but it didn’t hold for long when she sighed before nodding. “I’m still processing everything.”

“As am I. But I think we may be able to cope better if we worked together on this.”

Lupin had to force herself not to flinch when Valka gently touched her shoulder. Lupin’s spine turned rigid like a steel bar, and she bit back a nasty response, a snap that was on the tip of her tongue to yell. It was like resisting a kneejerk reaction. Valka just about retreated almost as quickly as she had offered the olive branch, a brief light of worry dancing across her face. She leaned away, lips parted, brow furrowed, and a faint whiff of fear wafted off of her in the following moments. Lupin hesitated.

“Sorry, I…I don’t like being touched. It’s…a thing. But, I-I hear what you’re saying. And thank you. I think that might be best. Sticking together, I mean.”

Relief was slow to wipe away the worry, but it came to Valka eventually.

“Perhaps we can discuss more later on? It’s getting late and we’ve only just gotten back. Come on,” she said and stood up, her steps carefully tracing the path she carved minutes before with practiced ease.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll be by in a little while. I think I just want to relax here for a little while longer.”

Valka paused, studying Lupin’s face before she nodded mutely and leapt nimbly off the edge of the roof and out of sight.

In truth, she didn’t feel comfortable taking up space in the woman’s house. She could sniff out the smells of other dragons, and two men—one young and the other…well. The other scent was an older male, but unlike the younger scent mark, it was faint. Valka had mentioned in the last week her son, Hiccup and his dragon, a Night Fury named Toothless. But the other scent mark could only belong to her late husband, Stoick. Every time she said his name, her voice would crack, just a little bit. Lupin pretended not to notice.

Intruding in her home, her space, even if she was invited didn’t comfort Lupin in the least.

_Maybe I can just sleep in someone’s barn or something. I’d rather not make a fuss. It’ll probably do me a few shades better sleeping on some hay than sleeping on the hard ground and using a rifle as a pillow._

The thought of her destroyed career and the loss of contact with her command and the Marines at her unit brought up a brief flash of anger. It bloomed and took root between her ribs and around her chest and she wished, just for a moment, she had done herself a favour and clocked at least one of the twins before parting ways with them.

It wasn’t Xerxes, but it would have made her feel better for the time being.

Lupin sat on the roof of the house for a while longer, watching the clouds build up and scoot across the sky. All the while, it got darker and darker still until night eventually fell. The dragons, for the most part, settled down to sleep. Some were a little more active and Lupin found that somewhat interesting.

 _Valka’s right,_ she thought as she watched a two-headed dragon heckling another with spikes and spines galore decorating its lithe body. _If I’m going to be stuck here, I’m going to have to work with them._

Just like in deployment, not everyone she went out overseas with had been with her original unit. Some people, she had to gain a foothold and a feel for. She had to learn about them, even if it was just a little, in order to work with them and get the mission done.

_This ain’t no different. It’s just a really bizarre kind of deployment. I can do this._

She watched the spikey-looking dragon finally chase off the two-headed dragon before settling down in its spot for the night. The two-headed dragon thrummed as it passed closely over the roof Lupin was perched on. The trailing wind zipped by her, ruffling her hair and the fur on her tail. She sighed.

_At least, I think I can do this. Adapt and overcome, Marine. Adapt and overcome._

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

She was up and on her feet before the barn door had fully opened. The creak of the wood and iron hinges had barely registered to her brain, but her body reacted with all the instinct of a predator on high alert. She had even managed to find a knife in the barn last night and she had it in her hand before she realized that she was safe. It was only Valka. There was no fight, no war, no ambush, no bullet hitting her skull.

Her memory was a little more scrambled than she liked to admit. She was glad it was dark and Valka couldn’t see her cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

 _Who else would it be,_ she groused quietly to herself. The older woman paused for a short moment at the entrance.

“You didn’t come by last night,” she said, breaking the tension. Lupin shrugged, then realized in the low lighting, Valka couldn’t see all that well. Not like Lupin could. The werewolf had perfect night vision. It was incredibly useful being able to confidently tell the difference between a dancing shadow and a creeping enemy combatant while others struggled with doubt. She started to check her watch, but stopped herself halfway when she realized that of course, she didn’t have it anymore. Six months in a coma? They had stripped her of everything, probably to rush her to surgery and…

_Why didn’t I ask for more? What had happened after, before I woke up here? So much I forgot to ask about..._

Lupin cursed softly under her breath, realizing that she had let her temper get the best of her and blind her to other important subjects when she had had Scribe readily available. Just thinking about it pissed her off all over again.

“Sorry,” Lupin muttered distractedly in apology. “I had a lot on my mind.”

“I can tell. You sound like you’ve got more still,” the other woman quipped back, sounding vaguely amused. “It’s still early. Why don’t you follow me and I’ll get some food in your belly. You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.”

“Thanks. I…yeah, thanks. That actually sounds good.”

“Of course.” There was warmth in Valka’s voice, a hint of laughter tinging her words.

Lupin began combing her fingers through her hair, untangling it as best she could while pulling out bits of straw and hay out at the same time as she followed Valka back out. Cloudjumper, predictably, wasn’t far from his rider. He hummed a sort of greeting to Lupin, tilting his head and blinking one eye and then the other at her. She waved at him.

“Morning.”

Cloudjumper hummed again, shifting his weight from one front wing-limb to the other. Lupin followed after Valka, winding around the village back up toward her home. It was still dark out, but the grey of dawn was beginning to lighten the sky up, bit by bit.

“So…what do we do today?”

“What do you mean?”

Lupin mulled over her next words. “Well, I mean…what do we do? We’ve got dozens of dragons all over the place. We can’t let them just…fly away, not too far anyways. We’ve established that we’re not in your time period. We’re in mine. The world’s advanced quite a lot, and we’re about three days away from Scotland, and I’m sure we’re closer to a few other places. You’ve only seen a small part of my time, and it wasn’t even during a high volume of activity like in the daytime, it was in the middle of the night. It’s loud and noisy, it’s bright and confusing, and it’s a lot faster.”

Valka didn’t answer, not right away. She led the way up the flight of steps to her home, crook in hand and it made a clunking noise every time Valka struck stone with it.

“I cannot force them to stay. I have no control over them. If we had an Alpha, then perhaps we would have a chance to divert them away from any human settlements to the south and the east and west, but…” She sighed, and it was a frustrated noise that threw away her usually calm veneer. She wanted a clear and concise solution as well, that much was obvious. “We’ll have to figure something out. Dragons mostly know to stay away from the mainland, but even they might try for a bold and daring raid if food grows short around here.”

“Then let’s hope we don’t run out too soon. What do they eat?”

“Fish, mostly. But they’ll eat just about all kinds of meat. Livestock, cattle, small rodents, birds even. But that’s when they must scavenge and don’t have much of a choice.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s one way of putting it.”

Valka reached the front door and pushed it aside, ushering Lupin in. The werewolf was immediately enveloped in the warm glow of the hearth’s light and heat. Valka lingered at the doorway, spending a few extra moments with Cloudjumper. In the end, she left it open, allowing for the large dragon to slink in as much as his body could allow in the home.

“We were hoping to expand,” Valka said, looking somewhat sheepish. “Myself and Hiccup, I mean. We wanted to accommodate for Cloudjumper.”

“Maybe you and I can do it.”

“Have you expanded a home before? Built one? Renovated?” Valka sounded skeptical as she stared over Lupin apprehensively.

“Ehhh…not really. I’m pretty handy, though. And a quick learner.” She averted her gaze, staring into the fire crackling away in the hearth. “Before she met my stepdad, my mum would usually go to me or my brother for help around the house. She couldn’t do much herself, but we could. We were the heavy lifters, I guess you could say.”

She still gazed at Lupin doubtfully. “We’ll see…for now, we’ll make due.”

The next several minutes passed in relatively comfortable silence. Lupin sat at the heavy oak dining table near the corner of the room, not too close to the hearth by neither was it too far. She could feel the warmth of the fire and it brought her some comfort to draw from. The minutes passed and before she knew it, a bowl of gruel was set before her. She looked up, briefly startled. Valka sat across from her, placing her own bowl on the table.

“Your mind is far from here, it seems,” she said quietly. “Are they thoughts that you wish to share?”

Lupin picked up the spoon and began stirring her food in aimless patterns inside the bowl.

“I was shot in the head by a weapon—one that won’t be around at least another eight-hundred years from your time and its projectile was made of something that can kill me.”

“Most projectiles shot in anyone’s head would kill them.”

Lupin shook her head. “I’m not human. You can see that, I mean…I won’t insult your intelligence. And I can survive a shot to the head from the usual run-of-the-mill crap. But this…this…”

“What was it made of, if you don’t mind my asking?”

The werewolf hesitated. It was information that was both well-known and unclear. Anyone who knew about werewolves knew about it, and yet, all of that knowledge was based on fictional media. She didn’t like revealing it, admitting it was true. If anything, Lupin would prefer to make a red herring claim; make them believe it was something else entirely. But, she felt she could trust Valka. If she didn’t, then who could she trust? Certainly not the twins. They were hiding something and Valka was more open.

“It was silver,” she answered sotto voce. “It was a silver bullet. It should have killed me. It was…”

She squeezed her eyes shut and let go of the spoon, clenching a fist. The memory was still blurred, but it was becoming clearer with every passing day. The airport, the running crowds, the gunfire cracking off in the air…

“I should be _dead_. I don’t understand how or why I’m still alive. I’m not pining to _be_ dead, but it’s…strange. And I don’t like it.”

She had one of the few people who may have known the “how” and the “why”, the details of the entire case and maybe even the identity of the one who had shot her. She let them slip right through her hands and she had no clue how to get in contact with either Scribe or Scribble. _And I was too fucking blind and stupid with my temper to just_ think. _All I did was sit there, practically frothing at the mouth and making threats and being a pigheaded dumbass._

“We’ll find out. I don’t know how, or when, but we will.”

She wanted to believe Valka. There was such warmth and assurance in the other woman’s voice that it was hard not to fall for the tone of reassurance. Even if it was for a second. Lupin chose to keep her pessimistic comments to herself this time around.

Valka was only trying to help. This was her way of doing it. Lupin couldn’t fault the woman for trying to be optimistic, especially after she had just found her world had turned upside not that dissimilar in the way Lupin’s has.

Instead, Lupin put on a smile, however thin it was, nodded to the woman in thanks, and tucked in her meal.

There was work to be done. Sitting around brooding and bemoaning her situation wasn’t going to get it fixed in any way whatsoever. Halfway through her food, Valka paused, a wry smile pulling at her lips. Lupin glanced up at her, spoon partway to her mouth. She slowly returned it back to the bowl.

“Whyyyy are you looking at me like that?”

The older woman’s smile broadened.

“You’re going to need training. I just realized that.”

“…training.”

“Yes.” Valka calmly spooned a bite of food into her mouth, still smiling. “Dragon training.”

Lupin stared back at the woman carefully, nearly for a full thirty seconds before she spoke again.

“What, like…dragon boot camp training?”

“If you’d like to see it as such, yes. You’re living on an island that is co-existent with them. You’ll need to learn how to work with them.”

“I don’t _need_ to, but it’s more beneficial if I did learn rather than being a stubborn jackass about it and refusing.”

Valka paused, giving the werewolf a reproachful and yet simultaneously guarded look.

“I suppose, if that’s how you view it as…” Valka said, trailing off. Lupin shrugged.

“Okay, so…when do we start?”

The smile returned, knowing and shrewd with a dancing light in her green eyes.

“Today.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

 


	4. Learning Curve

**Learning Curve**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

_“So, finally a decent wound on this ship, and I miss out. I’m sorry.”  
“Well, you were busy trying to get yourself lit on fire. It happens.”_ **  
-Simon and Mal, “ _Firefly_ ”**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Valka was a strangely enigmatic teacher.

Lupin learned to fly before she learned what she was flying on. She also learned to fall. A lot.

After two weeks, Lupin’s muscles were sore. Every bit of her body ached in one fashion or another. She couldn’t remember the last time her muscles had ever been this sore. Not since before she had been bitten and turned into a werewolf, anyway. For a human, Valka was a highly active one. Lupin had to hand it to the older woman, she was anything but idle. And the woman certainly loved the dragons, every last one of them that inhabited the island. From the tiniest Terrible Terror to the wide-mouthed sea-faring Thunderdrum, and yes, of course, she adored her ever-loyal companion Stormcutter, Cloudjumper.

“I haven’t seen those Night Furies around,” Lupin noted absently later that night, after their full day of lessons. Valka may know all there was and more about every breed of dragon on the island, but cooking wasn’t her greatest forte. Lupin herself wasn’t some grand chef worthy of owning her own restaurant, but she was decent enough. She had decided to take it upon herself to worry about the cooking. It was the very least she could do in return for Valka’s lessons and for boarding Lupin in her home.

Valka didn’t answer right away.

“Night Furies are nocturnal by nature. Of course, they can change that. I’ve seen it. But I believe they’re running on a different schedule from most breeds that are more commonly active during the day.”

“…oh.”

“Why do you ask?”

“I dunno, I just…” Lupin trailed off, stopping completely from her mincing of the onion on the cutting board in front of her. “That…little guy. The one with the notch in his ear.”

“Yes?”

“Why was he following me around the day we got back? I only flew with him for less than three days. I wouldn’t think they would…bond, I guess is the word I’m looking for, that quickly.”

“Each dragon is unique, just as each person is unique. Some trust more readily than others, and some withhold it until a certain modicum of their standards are met.”

Valka laid out several skinned squirrels out by the cutting board. Lupin eyed them for a moment. They were plump little things that they had caught earlier that day and they would serve well in the stew Lupin was starting. Already, she could hear the water coming to a boil in the pot overhanging the fire across the room. She reached above Lupin’s head to pluck down some dried herbs and gave them a sniff, holding one out to Lupin. The werewolf gave a small sniff and nodded.

“That’s good to go,” she concurred. Valka set it out as well. “But I still don’t understand the puppy-dog attraction. You said despite his small size in comparison to the others, that dragon is fully grown. I would maybe expect it from a younger animal, no distrust as of yet, but he was lookin’ at me—and you too, to some degree—like we were the best thing since sliced bread.”

The Viking woman appeared boggled. Lupin waved a hand. “I’ll tell you about sliced bread later. My point is, I don’t get it. None of the others acted like that.”

“Perhaps he saw, smelled, or sensed something the other six didn’t.” Valka gave pause as she began sorting through the other varied herbs hanging over Lupin’s head. “What impression did you have of me when you met me?”

“Um…I first thought, ‘is this lady going to try and kill me and if so, why’?”

She laughed, amused at Lupin’s answer as she brought down yet another piece of dried herb. Lupin gave it a sniff and nodded. It was laid down next to the squirrels as well.

“And after that, when we spent some time together?”

“…I felt I could trust you now, just a little.”

“You spent three days with them. Gave them a different sort of treatment than what they had been receiving, wherever they were before they were released to us. Perhaps that’s all that was needed to convince even just the one.”

“Hmm.”

There was still much Lupin needed to learn. She wasn’t too prideful to avoid admitting that.

“I think I’d…like to try with that dragon. I was hasty in my decision, a few weeks back.” She cleared her throat. “I keep switching around with different dragons every day, but I think if I have at least one interested in me, I should probably stick with the one. Besides, he wasn’t that bad of a ride. We’re both small.”

Valka beamed warmly at her. “You remind me of Hiccup. Just a little. And of Astrid. Oh. I miss them both so much.”

“Astrid is supposed to be your daughter-in-law, right?”

“Future daughter-in-law, yes. The marriage arrangements were still in progress. Stoick was arranging them before he...he…” Valka fell quiet as she steeled herself. Lupin stopped working, turning to face her when the silence persisted.

“Valka—”

“It’s all right, I’m—I’m fine.” Her smile was forced and thin, distracted even. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I was completing the arrangements for the marriage with the Hoffersons before this event blindsided me.”

“I’m sorry, I—well…what’re they like? The others in the village. Astrid and Hiccup and everyone else?”

“Oh, the stories I could tell,” Valka’s smile broadened marginally, her eyes crinkling merrily at the corners.

Lupin returned the smile and nudged the older woman with her elbow.

“Then tell them. I’d like to hear. Really.”

Valka considered her before nodding.

“All right. Yes. Where to start…? For starters…we Berkians didn’t always live in peaceful coexistence with dragons. No, it was a much different time, and we used to _fight_ them. We were under attack from dragons over twenty years ago, and it was just like any other raid, except for the part where a dragon had broken into our home where our son was, sleeping in his cradle…”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

They found most of the Night Furies curled up and snoozing in the catacomb stables, right underneath the cliffs of Berk facing outboard toward the sea. Valka was a familiar presence, it seemed, as she had led the way to the stables with absolute confidence as to where they were.

The black dragon with the scars on his paws and the notch in his ear-nub was there, snoozing with two larger black dragons.

“Brothers,” Valka had decided on the spot. “Perhaps from the same clutch of eggs or even the same flock. Dragons are very social creatures, even those without familial bonds.”

She shook her driftwood and leather crook, and it rattled. Several pairs of ear-nubs shot into the air, and following those were the heads. Wide, green eyes snapped open to stare at Valka. It was like Lupin didn’t even exist in their world. The older woman crept closer, dropping down to all fours. She left her crook behind as she hopped forward. The Night Furies began to breathe a little faster, their nostrils flaring, heads leaning closer still. One of them pulled away from the knot of wings and tails and limbs to meet the woman halfway. She laughed as a snout connected with her outstretched palm and the dragon greeted her with a croon, like one with an old friend. The other two weren’t far behind.

“Hello, boys! Sorry to bother your nap, I know it’s still daytime, but night’s coming soon, I promise.” Valka turned just enough to call over her shoulder to Lupin and continued, “Come, come! Slowly, though. Don’t walk right up, take it nice and slow.”

Lupin licked her lips, twitched her ears, and stepped closer, one paw at a time. The dragons locked on to the new movement without missing a beat. Their coos and croons fell to the wayside and left only silence in their wake. Their wide pupils suddenly constricted to tight little black slits and Lupin stopped moving.

“Don’t stop now. You’re almost here.”

“Uh, Valka? They’re looking ready to pounce and getting mauled by dragons is not on my bucket list.”

“Move slower. Hold out your hand to them, and don’t look them in the eye just yet. They’ll see it as disrespect.”

Lupin ducked her gaze and slid a foot forward, slowly extending a hand out. Then she pushed her other foot forward. She did this a third time and froze when a gush of hot air met with her palm. The stubby snout of one of the dragons was right in front of her. He wasn’t touching her yet, but she could feel his presence hovering just out of reach and the warmth he exuded was potent.

Almost as potent, if not equal, to her own natural heat.

Valka was holding her breath. The other dragons weren’t moving. Only one came out to meet her. The scent mark was familiar to her; she had spent three days on the dragon’s backside, with the wind pushing his scent into her face. She didn’t need to see it was the same dragon she had ridden with, and the same one who had shown an ounce of interest in her weeks ago.

She nearly flinched when something warm and scaly pressed itself into the palm of her hand. Warm and strong and real. Lupin lifted her head a little, saw the scars lining the front paws and the large, triangular skull sitting before her. The dragon’s eyes were closed. Lupin lifted her gaze to meet Valka’s. The older woman was beaming. The other two dragons were still and quiet, but they no longer seemed alarm. Their pupils weren’t mere slits anymore and moments later, they seemed to lose interest altogether. They returned their attention to Valka.

Lupin was startled once again when she found the Night Fury before her had opened his eyes and was staring at her intently. She stared back, dumbstruck for a full ten seconds before she said very quietly and dumbly, “Hi.”

The Night Fury pulled back his head, snorted, blinked, and then strode right past her. Lupin turned on her heel to watch, stupefied. She whirled to look to Valka for guidance. The older woman watched, then nodded.

“Go. Go with him,” she said.

“Uh, I need an adult. Supervision.”

“You are an adult,” Valka reminded the werewolf pointedly.

“I need dragon lady supervision, then.”

“You’ll be fine. You’re a surprisingly fast learner.”

“I don’t think so.”

“He won’t hurt you. Not intentionally, mind.”

“But—”

“If he wanted to hurt you, Lupin, he would have done it here and now, and with the help of these two.” She paused, adding with a rueful smile, “Besides, you’re the one who wanted to come here and try to bond. No use changing your mind now. He’ll be sorely disappointed if you did.”

Lupin couldn’t find the right words to argue back and gave up in the end. She was stalling. Of course she was; who in their right mind would willingly put themselves on the back of what has been described by Valka’s people, ‘the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself.’

She thought about that, then cursed.

People who wanted dragons and thought they were the shit, mainly because they could fly, make people crap their pants, breathe fire, and cause general mayhem and havoc to anyone who defied them

Basically, it was people who were in dire need of a reality check.

_And I have a reality check staring me down right now. Irony._

The Night Fury was waiting at the entrance to the stables. He called to her with a yowl that might as well have been interpreted as, ‘Hurry up!’ Casting one last look toward Valka, Lupin trudged over to the dragon.

 _No turning back now,_ she thought as she gave the long tail a wide berth, coming around the curled wings and standing beside the short, powerful neck connected to the wide skull. The Night Fury stared at her with one wild eye, then jerked his head with a growl. Lupin furrowed her brow. The Night Fury repeated the gesture twice before it clicked: Get on.

Slowly, she did so. The rasp of dry scales on jeans cracked off like gunfire in her ears.

_Hello, reality check and bareback riding. Why did none of this hit me when we were flying away from Scotland two weeks ago? Or over the last two weeks when I was riding other dragons?_

She sighed, knowing she already had the answer.

_…Maybe it was because I was avoiding this particular dragon in general._

A dragon who had a strange vested interest in her, no less.

The Night Fury shivered and unfurled his wings. They were wide and long, and Lupin could feel the powerful muscles in the dragon’s neck and shoulders as he flexed. He was small but mighty, she decided in that moment. Before she could say or think anything else, the Night Fury leapt out of the stable hangar, and out into the wild blue yonder with a wild scream.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Valka was trying, and failing rather miserably, at hiding her amusement. Lupin would catch her snickering every so often, softly and under her breath when she thought Lupin wasn’t paying attention.

 _My big wolf ears are not for decoration,_ Lupin wanted to say. _I can hear you every time you stifle yourself, or hitch your breath when you try to stop yourself before you start._

But, she couldn’t bring it upon herself to get mad at the other woman.

In hindsight, her real flying test had been utterly hilarious.

If only Lupin hadn’t been the one on the receiving end of things and it was someone else entirely, Lupin would have wholeheartedly been laughing alongside Valka.

The Night Fury didn’t hold back, even if his impromptu rider was going bareback with him. He flipped and slid into loopty-loops and barrel rolls, crowing all the while in what Lupin assumed were delighted, gleeful hollering whoops. One thing Lupin did learn was this: he was fast.

Very fast.

So fast, in fact, he damn near gave her whiplash from all the sharp turns, steep dives and vertical climbs that nearly threw her off.

 _I need a saddle,_ she concluded later that night. _I wonder if Valka will help with that. She doesn’t seem to worry about that with Cloudjumper, but I need a saddle if I fly with this guy full-time._

The other dragons she had ridden on all had their quirks. Monstrous Nightmares liked setting themselves on fire sometimes. Gronkles just didn’t seem to obey the law of physics when it came to flying, much like bumblebees. It was weird flying on them; they were squat, rotund bumpy things. Deadly Nadders were nothing but spikes galore. Hideous Zipplebacks seemed more content with bickering with themselves than focusing on their rider and their flight patterns.

The list went on.

She found herself brooding more and more as the night wore on. Valka’s laughter eventually died down as Lupin helped finish their meal for the night. She fed the fire with another log before coming to the table to eat, quiet herself. Too quiet, actually.

“Is everything all right?”

Valka turned her focus to the werewolf, watching her briefly. She offered a faint smile.

“Yes, of course. Is everything all right with you?”

“I guess. I just got this mental list going on right now, I’m still going through it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m…thinking I might need a saddle. Today’s test flight kind of told me that much.”

Valka chuckled quietly, took a bite of her food, chewed, swallowed, and nodded.

“This is good,” she said, pointing to her plate. “And yes, I’m of the same thought on that subject. Night Furies, by nature, are the fastest dragon known to Vikings. We have never seen one, not until Hiccup bonded with Toothless years ago.”

“You weren’t there when that happened though, right?”

“No, I wasn’t. Stoick was. And Hiccup told me of how it happened, when we reunited with one another. I’ve only ever seen a Night Fury from a distance, but I wonder if it was Toothless and at the time, I never knew until after I met him.” She faltered, dropping her gaze. “I thought he was the last of his kind. But now…we might have hope with these Night Furies, the ones the Twins have released to us.”

“I just have to wonder where and how they got their hands on a dragon that’s incredibly rare,” Lupin remarked with a scowl. Valka studied her carefully.

“You’re suspicious. I suppose it’s with good reason. That was never answered,” the older woman conceded with a nod. “I want to believe in the good intentions they’re trying to offer us.”

“They have a hidden agenda. I can smell it.”

“Perhaps,” Valka agreed, even if it was reluctantly. The rest of the meal passed with little conversation. Only after they gathered their dishes did Valka resume on the subject about the saddle. “Hiccup might still have his old designs somewhere around here. Perhaps you can take a look and modify them?”

“You said his saddle was designed in mind to accommodate Toothless’s prosthetic tail fin and Hiccup’s left prosthetic leg, right? If we just took that mechanism out, maybe that could work out.”

“Yes, exactly. There’s plenty of leather in Gobber’s smithy. I’m sure he won’t mind if we took a few lengths for our little project,” Valka smiled and winked at Lupin. The werewolf beamed back, her tail wagging a little.

“Sounds like a plan.” She agreed with a nod. They finished cleaning the dishes and after that, searched around the house, looking for the drawings that Hiccup had. Lupin felt some guilt in snooping through his things; she didn’t even know him, not personally anyways.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t be too bothered by the intrusion, seeing as it was his mother helping Lupin find the designs and not just Lupin by her lonesome doing it.

They located them after a bit of searching, and Lupin had to hand it to the young man, he had a knack for design. She stared over the schematics for not only a saddle that would fit a Night Fury, but other dragons as well. Leafing through other pages, she found designs used for several other uses in the village, some mechanisms she recognized almost immediately, such as the stables beneath the cliffs, the fire-prevention systems, the feeders, the bathing stations…

“Hiccup’s a goddamn genius,” Lupin concluded with an appraising tone. Valka beamed proudly.

“Guess who he takes after more,” she chuckled.

“I have three guess, but I probably only need one.”

Valka laughed again.

Lupin put away the other blueprints, and took the few pertaining to her needs, a charcoal pencil and some blank leaflets. She’d have to recreate a saddle design for herself. She spent another hour or so working off the original design, taking the foundation and working on a saddle for her own uses. Valka spent her time out with Cloudjumper. When she returned, she wasn’t alone. The Night Fury with the notch in his ear-nub was pattering after Valka, attentive and cautiously affectionate with the older woman.

When he spotted Lupin curled by the fire, he froze, head tilting to the side, nostrils flared to take in the air around him, and his pupils wide and curious. Valka rubbed his head, but the dragon didn’t budge or lean into the touch. Lupin stared back with equal fervent attention, before realizing she shouldn’t stare. She ducked her gaze back to the parchment in her lap. Her ears flicked at the sound of pattering paws creeping closer, but she kept her attention focused on the drawing.

She didn’t flinch when a soft gush of air blew against her ears, or at the familiar sensation of sensing something sitting right beside her, not quite touching but it was _there_. A muzzle pressed closer, just barely within her peripheral and she stole a quick glance over. The Night Fury was studying the drawing she was working on intently. His stubby snout wiggled and he blinked slowly, uttering a soft noise that sounded…curious.

“It’s a saddle,” she said after a moment. The Night Fury sniffed a little louder, leaned forward and nudged her hand holding the charcoal pencil. She swiped a few lines on the paper. He crooned in fascination and nudged her hand again. “I’m going to try and build this, you know. With Valka’s help.”

The dragon tilted his head to look at her. She stared back, offering a tentative smile. She wasn’t sure just how much he understood, but maybe it would be enough for him to realize it was for her to put on his back. “So I can ride with you a little easier. Ya know?”

His nostrils flared and he leaned closer, sniffing her cheek, her hair, her ear. He turned back to her hand and gave it another gentle nudge. He crooned again.

Lupin pulled a fresh sheet out and began anew, simple shapes lightly pressed into the parchment at first, before definition was fleshed out. Valka carefully tiptoed around to Lupin’s other side, watching with equal interest and silence as the Night Fury. When Lupin was finished with the rough sketch, she held it up. The Night Fury chirruped, tilting his head and leaning closer to the paper.

“It’s you. See? Your little notch in your…ear-horn-nub thing.” She pointed to aforementioned ear-nub. The Night Fury warbled, sounding pleased. Valka softly laughed.

“I think he likes it. Toothless was much the same. He can’t draw as easily as a person can, but he’s aware of the skill and has tried to mimic Hiccup. Take him out sometime, he might try what you’ve done in the dirt himself.”

The page was snatched from Lupin’s hand. She turned with an indignant squawk on her lips, seeing the Night Fury pattering away with the page gingerly clasped between his conical teeth. He curled up near the front door, well out of reach from the werewolf, laid the page down between his paws and set out to admire it for himself. He looked utterly pleased.

“…ya know, I think he likes it, too.”

Valka laughed again, a little loud this time. When she fell silent, she said, “He needs a name, I think. Perhaps while he’s busy admiring his portrait, and you with your saddle design, you can think of one.”

“I already got one.” Lupin said, pulling out the page with the saddle design and continuing her sketching ministrations. “How about Whiplash? He damn near gave me some earlier today.”

“That sounds appropriate, considering how much he’s flung you about.” Valka remarked, an amused twinkle in her eyes. “Whiplash. Yes. That sounds like a fine name.”

When Valka turned to glance over at the Night Fury, she found that Whiplash was still engrossed in the drawing Lupin had done of him.

He really did look very pleased with it.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

** **


	5. Backup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: For anyone still interested, my tumblr is open for curious minds! Art has been slowly added, headcanons are being thrown into the mix, and a playlist from 8tracks have been posted up! Please feel free to stop by! More Crash-related posts will begin to make their way onto the account as the story progresses, although I don't want to be too spoiler-y as of yet. :P Check it out when you get the chance! http://crashed-into-you.tumblr.com/
> 
> As for this chapter, it was a doozy. Things took a weird turn and I definitely want to hit a few out-of-story points about it later on!

**Chapter Five:  
Backup**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

**“** _Only one thing is gonna walk you through this, Mal. Belief.”  
“You know I always look to you for counsel, but sermons make me sleepy, Shepherd. I ain’t looking for help on high. That’s a long wait for a train don’t come.”  
“When I talk about belief, why do you always assume I’m talking about God?”  
_ **-Shepherd Book and Mal, “ _Serenity_ ”**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

The weeks passed and a strangeness began to engulf Berk. Each day, it seemed almost as though the island was, well… _growing_. The expanse and landscape was expanding without explanation. Every day, Lupin her confidence soaring and the distance she and Whiplash flew was growing lengthier. They would fly about the island and at first, neither of them quite noticed the changes.

When she finally did, she pointed it out to Valka, the older woman appeared troubled by the revelation.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m like, pretty positive. At least eighty-five percent positive that something weird is going on.” Lupin gave pause, and added sheepishly, “Weirder than what’s already happened, that is.”

It wasn’t until Lupin took Valka out to show her in person that the Viking woman concurred with what she was saying. They did several flyovers together in the following days, noting the expansions. It was troubling, and that was the mildest way to put it. They began taking into account the growing landscape. Each day, they would fly around the circumference of Berk, map it out on paper, and compare with previous days.

“This is some kind of strange magic.”

“Or it’s executive meddling from a certain company that’s delving into forbidden things they ought not be delving into,” Lupin growled out bitterly in return. She ran a hand through her thick hair, scanning over the surveillance of the day and compared it to those made yesterday and the day before. “And another thing…some of the flora I’m seeing doesn’t seem consistent with the flora that you’d see this far north. Have you also noticed how much warmer it’s getting?”

Valka hesitated. It wasn’t hard to miss. She nodded reluctantly.

“I have. I’m not sure what it means. It can’t be anything good, though.”

“I don’t think so, either.” Lupin scowled and cursed under her breath. “I need to reconnect with what’s going on out in the real world. I need—I need gear. Equipment.” She paused, sniffing the air.  Her ears pressed flush to her head. “I need deodorant.”

“What is it that you’re saying?”

Lupin sighed. “I think I need to head back to Scotland for a few days. I need to get some gear.”

“What kind of gear? What can’t you find here that you’re so desperate for?”

“It’s…hard to explain. But I need a little more than we have. I could show you, but I need to get my hands on it first.”

“You need to leave to retrieve or trade for these items, I’m to guess.”

“…yeah. Something like that. A few days, at most. If it’s just me and Whiplash, we can buzz down to Scotland overnight, gather what we need, and be back a day or two later.” She said, her mind already scrolling down the list she’s made over the last several weeks. She’d probably be better off writing it all down, to be honest. _Add to list: pencils, pens, pad paper._

When she noticed the look on Valka’s face, however, all thoughts of trips and flying away and grocery lists came to a full stop. The older woman looked appropriately worried and diffident on the subject.

“Is it that urgent of a matter that you need to leave?” She asked inaudibly.

Lupin faltered, stalling in answering the other woman.

“I think it’d be best if I did, just for a short while. I’ve been out of commission for over half a year. I have no idea what’s going on outside of Berk. I didn’t get a chance to get filled in on…well, _anything_ , besides what was going on with you and the island, and what happened to _me_ , specifically. Everything else was…not on my mind at the time.”

Valka considered Lupin’s face, her worry mixing with tentative understanding and thoughtfulness. She closed her eyes and kept them shut for nearly half a minute and expelled a heavy breath, nodding at last.

“I can’t stop you. And Cloudjumper won’t be nearly as fast, this I know, if a quick job is what you’re after.” Valka opened her eyes and captured Lupin in a stoic gaze as she reached over and gently covered her hand over Lupin’s. “Be swift and be safe. If you’re to leave, you should do it now, while it’s dark. You’ll have the advantage of hiding in the darkness well away from prying eyes.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Night Furies were fast and that was putting it incredibly mildly once again. It was a thought that crossed her mind more often than naught these days. The night never seemed to end and land didn’t come into sight, not until right before the break of dawn. Even with the saddle, Lupin was stiff and riddled with tension from locking up her muscles to keep herself pinned down.

 _Note to self: invest in a redesign of the saddle with straps to keep me in it_ , she told herself as they came in for a landing. Her legs didn’t want to cooperate at first when she stumbled out of the saddle. Whiplash rumbled and shook himself, arching his wings and back. When he finished his own stretching, he bumped Lupin a few times, warbling for attention. She scratched his neck in appreciation, murmuring what a good job he did.

He puffed his chest out and set his back and shoulders straight, eyes closing in smugness, as if to say, ‘ _Of_ course _I did a good job. What else were you expecting?_ ’

She gave him another scratch under the chin. He crooned happily, his jaw shivering.

The town of Thurso below was nestled between the gentle slopes of rising green hills, as quiet and sleepy as the last time she had been several weeks with Valka. Whiplash turned his attention to the town as well, alert and silent and overall curious.

“Okay, Whip…we’re gonna be doing some not-so-chill stuff while we’re down there. I don’t have access to my money, my bank account, or my credit cards. And I doubt those Chimera Dynamics bastards will let me have any access to that stuff, either so we’re gonna have to steal shit.”

She expelled a long breathe.

“But, I intend to pay the proprietors back as soon as I’m able. Hopefully that’ll be soon…”

Whiplash chirruped back softly.

She sighed and he bumped her gently, nudging her with a trill of reassurance. She smiled half-heartedly back.

“Shiny. Let’s go hole up somewhere for the day and tonight…tonight, let’s be bad guys.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Finding a place to curl up for the day, before the morning rush and rise of car and foot traffic and the increase in people on the streets, was a rushed job. The abandoned house they scavenged out, however, served its purpose and for the most part, no one looked twice at the impromptu hideout. While Whiplash settled to nap for most of the day, Lupin scouted out the town and various shops, scouring what she’d need ahead of time so they could hit them up after hours later that night. They would have to be hit fast, and she had no doubt Whiplash was the best suited partner for such a task. Not only was he fast, but he had a mean arsenal of firepower at hand.

Literally.

In the meantime, she pickpocketed throughout her romp in the town. She wasn’t proud of such a sticky-fingered skill, but she had little choice in the matter. She took only the cash and left the credit cards and wallets alone. Leaving a digital trail wasn’t on her to-do list in the near future, thanks very much. There was being stupid, and then there was _being stupid_.

Although, granted, she was taking her sweet time wrapping her mind around the currency exchange. _Look at the ugly American ‘tourist’, trying to make heads or tails of the ‘pound sterling’. The store clerks must be having a laugh._

With what cash she had managed to snatch off wayward passersby, she had quite enough to buy herself some new clothes, hygiene products, some pens and pencils, paper, a used music player and a used phone with respective chargers, a surge protector, and a duffel bag to carry it all in. She had a bit of money left over, and bought herself some coffee and sweet muffin from a local café.

The taste of freshly brewed coffee with a hint of sweet creamer and caramel and whipped foam was heaven on the tongue. All she had on deployment for nearly a year were chocolate covered coffee beans in care packages and the insta-coffee packets from MREs. She nibbled on her pastry as she scribbled in her newly purchased notebook items she’d need to get later on that night.

On other pages, she mapped out store layouts as she remembered them. On the side, she made notes in the margin of what was where and calculating how long it’d take to snatch things up before bugging out of each respective place. The hardest part would be getting her own set of weapons.

The only hunting place in town had various types of hunting rifles, pistols, knives and bows. They also had a number of survival and bugout bags that were almost akin to those she could purchase in America, or online if she so wanted. That would have to be the last place she’ll hit. Places like that were locked up tighter and had worrisome enough security that would trigger big alarms. Alarms meant police.

_Not that any of these other places will be any easier, like the local computer shop. Fast and hard. We’ll have to hit these places fast and hard._

She’d also have to get a generator.

 _And what luck,_ she thought as she bit off an especially large chunk off her muffin. _Chimera Dynamics recently got their solar powered generators on the market almost three years ago and last I heard, they were doing quite well. Especially the newer models._

But even their smallest ones were worth nearly a grand. A large price to pay on her paltry stolen allowance. That went on the list of “to steal” items as well.

_Yeesh. I’m really racking up a bill of debt. Maybe I should just steal myself a car while I’m at it, just because._

When she finished up at the café, she headed for the library to make use of their computer lab. The internet connection lagged and the computer was slow to boot, but it finally got where she needed it to go. It was better than nothing.

_News, news, news. What’s happened in the last seven months I’ve been gone…?_

The war with terrorists was still going on. Terrorist attacks have recently been loosed upon various countries such as France, England, and Germany…and then there were some bombings in several New England states…

_Jesus. Has the world really gone to shit since I was out of commission? What in the hell is going on?_

The Embers were behind some of the attacks, she noted offhandedly, although that was no surprise. The Embers were a small-cell group that seemed to specifically target Chimera Dynamics with their ire, for whatever reason. Lupin had never really paid much attention to them. They were about as measly in the world as her dwindling allowance was in her pocket. It looked like they were dying out, regardless.

She was reading through an article when a laugh broke her concentration. This would have been the part where her ear flicked in the direction of the noise. But given she was surrounded by humans, trying to blend in was key. She had to revert them back to their mostly-humanoid appearance to keep herself low-key.

Instead, she tilted her head just a little.

She could hear another round of laughter bursting out into the air. There were three of them, all young men, and judging by the tenor of their voices, they were in their late teens to early twenties. She listened a little longer, annoyed by their fervent whisperings, as they were childishly and immaturely talking about her, making lewd remarks. Or maybe it wasn’t her specifically, it was just women in general. There was no one else in the library besides herself and the librarians. Were they playing hooky while everyone else was at work or school? Was it even time for school? She elected to ignore them, deciding it wasn’t important.

Lupin returned to another article. This one featured Chimera Dynamics and their renewed contract with providing newly improved ballistics-proof protective equipment with the United States military and several other allied countries. She scrolled down the page and paused at a photograph of Xerxes shaking hands with a man in a tailored suit. She vaguely recognized the older gentleman in the suit. It was the Secretary of Defense for the United States. There were several other faces accompanied in the photograph, and at the bottom, she read the names featured in it.

She returned her attention to Xerxes.

Xerxes was tall, she noted. Tall, dark, and handsome. He was smiling, if a little thinly, as he regarded his counterpart in the photograph. His hair was professionally trimmed while his face was clean-shaven and smooth with no signs of a stubble. His suit was probably tailor-made and came from the finest shop in Italy. Or whoever else made suits and wherever else they were made. Either way, it gave him an impeccably sharp cut, accentuating his slim waist and broad shoulders.

She hated him.

She hated his smile. She hated his face. She hated his suit.

She hated the way he had so callously cast aside her life, calling a faked hit on her life, just so he could cut her ties with everyone she knew and cared about. It was such a seemingly convoluted, complicated, and dramatic fashion to end things the way they had, yet it was effective to end any doubts that she was gone in anyone else’s eyes. She hated that she was being forced to stay away from her parents, her friends, the Marines from her unit, for god’s sakes—they had risked their _lives_ together. Granted, she couldn’t really die from the conventional rounds, but still. They all _thought_ she was human. They had risked their lives for her and she for them. They’ve been through too much and now…

_Now they think I’m dead. Everyone. Everyone thinks I’m dead. Xerxes probably paid someone and had them release some gussied up corpse what looks like me to my parents, and they had themselves a nice funeral for me._

Her eyes burned and her throat was raw and filled up with a thick lump. She had trouble looking at the screen as her chest grew tight and the anger in her rose. She clenched her fists on the keyboard, stifling the urge to cry and steeling herself.

Not here. Never in public, never in front of anyone.

 _They probably don’t even care,_ she realized miserably. _My parents were_ afraid _of me. Afraid of what I was, of what I could_ do _. They’re probably_ glad _I’m gone, they’ve probably been hoping I’d get shot and die overseas. They don’t have to worry about their freak of a daughter anymore. The firestarter, the pyromaniac, the monster. Christ. And here I am, worrying about them when they don’t even care. Not even Jared gives a shit about me anymore, he hasn’t in years, why would any of them care? Probably just had a tombstone laid down in the ground and they’re happy enough to quietly forget about me._  

Her anger soared again, but this time for different reasons. Even when she knew they feared her, she couldn’t bring herself to let them be killed. They were her parents. They had raised her. They had done the best that they could, the both of them. And even for a time, Lupin recalled the fonder memories she had made with her older brother. Her fury came full circle and reapplied itself back onto Xerxes, on Chimera Dynamics, on the fucking twins, Scribe and Scribble.

She jumped, startled, at the sudden scream that tore through the relative silence. The air reeked of smoke, and she looked up over the computer monitor to see near the front desk a fire had started. The three boys from somewhere behind her hurried over with pounding feet to assist the young woman who discovered the abnormal conflagration.

By the time it was put out and the fire department had been called down to investigate, Lupin was gone, duffel bag with supplies and all.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Lupin spent the rest of the day curled under Whiplash’s wings, pressed to his side and lightly dozing.

The heavy rise and fall of the dragon’s breathing soothed her, as did the rhythmic tap-dance of his heartbeat. It was slow at the moment, lulled by the sleeping Night Fury, but it was fast when he was awake, and energetic when at a full tempo. At the moment though, she enjoyed its restfulness. It kept her grounded.

She was almost sorry to hear it rise up in beat as Whiplash slowly shook himself awake after the sun had fallen and night rose up. His energy leaked into her, and she was suddenly pumped and ready to go.

He rumbled softly at her, wide eyes bright in the moonlight as he waited for her to mount the saddle on his backside, tightening straps and grabbing her supplies.

She flipped through the notebook she had written in, scanning the floor plans of the first place they’d be hitting: minimal security, no security cameras. Easiest place to hit.

Or so she hoped.

Leading them out of the house and into the open yard behind it, she gazed around, eyes scanning the dark countryside for anything unusual and found nothing. She threw herself into the saddle and squeezed her knees.

“Let’s go. First stop, here we come.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

_If I had not joined the Marines, I’d probably be in Los Angeles, becoming a wanted criminal for sure._

The thought depressed Lupin. It was the main motivation she had even considered joining the military in the first place several years ago. She hadn’t wanted to end up behind bars or worse, dead in the streets, if she kept up with her reckless behaviors. Just because she had never been caught, didn’t mean she never would be eventually.

_And then I got reckless in the military, only I had a license to kill through the graces of the government, but also to drive big fucking war-going machines and repair them to boot._

Everything had, surprisingly and amazingly, gone rather smoothly. No crazy hang ups, no Hollywood-style drama, nothing but smooth sailing. It was too good to be true, she just knew it and was waiting for the repercussions to strike her down when she wasn’t looking.

The weapons shop was more heavily fortified than the other shops, but still relatively easily broken into by the werewolf’s standards. Coupled with the distractions of the other shops being reported robbed, the police were spread too thin to respond in time to the robbery of the shop. By the time they realized the scope of just how many shops had been hit, Lupin and Whiplash were well away from the coast of Scotland and on their way back to Berk.

Or so she hoped it was on the way back.

She trusted Whiplash’s sense of direction than her own at this point and really, she was only just trying to make sure all of the things she had gotten wouldn’t fall into the ocean. Dawn approached hours later with a frigid pink and dove grey lighting on the horizon, softening to soft creamy yellows and blues and there was no sight of Berk at hand.

It wasn’t until mid-morning that it finally peaked on the horizon, in fact. As she and Whiplash drew nearer, something rose up from the island proper to greet them. Lupin nearly felt her heart stop when she saw it was a helicopter—sleek and streamlined, its duel-rotor systems tilting along the side of the chassis. It did nothing to abate her discomfort when she glimpsed the large machinegun mounted underneath it.

“Ah, shit. I think we’re in trouble.”

Whiplash snarled as he snapped his wings open to hover as the chopper came bearing down on them. He shivered beneath her and she could feel him rumbling with a deep-chested growl as well. She laid a reassuring hand on the crown of his skull, trying to hide her own discomfort as best she could, raising her voice so he could hear her as she spoke, “Easy, Whip—easy, don’t attack! It’s got nastier firepower than you, trust me. I’ve seen those things in action.”

They were a recently new addition to the flying fleet of American forces—courtesy of a sub-division company of Chimera Dynamics. Improved maneuverability, increased durability, EMP-shielding to prevent sabotage, and of course, massive firepower.

The sleek chopper came barreling down on them, but it didn’t open fire as it came to an easy halt before her and Whiplash. She could see the pilot in the cockpit, decked in flight gear and helmet. He tapped on a few instruments before a voice boomed out from a PA system, “Miss Ferus. I am to escort you back to the island. If you try to escape, I have permission to use deadly force and that means that I _will_ blow you out of the sky. If you attack me, I will retaliate in kind and blow you out of the sky. Don’t try any cute stuff.”

Whiplash rumbled out another growl that was nearly all but lost in the thumping beat of the chopper’s rotors. She kept her hand on his head, leaning forward as she shouted, “Don’t do it, Whip. Let’s just go home and the big nasty metal bird will go away if we do, okay?”

She threw a thumbs up at the pilot and patted Whiplash twice. He dove under the chopper and took a position to the front. Lupin glanced behind her to see it turning to follow. Her stomach slithered further down her abdomen when she saw the gun priming up to train itself on her and Whiplash.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

“Of all the incredibly reckless, stupid, thoughtless methods you could have gone about getting materials and supplies— _this_ has got to take the cake! Are you—are you even listening to me?!”

Lupin lifted her gaze, having found more interest in the dirt under her claws than in the scream fest being directed at her. Scribe stood before, his thin shoulders trembling as he glared down at her. Her ears twitched as she slowly kicked her feet down off the table she had propped them up on.

“Oh, sorry. Am I supposed to be cowering from you? Sorry.” She cleared her throat and then waved her hands in the air by her head. “Ahhhh, so scary. So much yelling, my ears hurt, make it stop. I’m so sorry. I’ve learned my lesson. Pinkie promise.”

She smirked when his face grew red, his previous demeanor of cultured gentlemen he had worked so hard on to establish from their first meeting melting away so quickly. It was actually quite funny to her.

“Do you think this is _amusing_?”

“Incredibly hilarious.”

“You stole from four shops in that town, including from a weapon’s shop! _And_ you set fire to the public library!”

“Wait, how’d you know about that?”

“Video surveillance cameras! How else do you think? Not to mention, the fire department had to be called in to deal with the situation! We’ve had to clean up all evidence of your existence to every shop you visited or stole from, never mind the people you probably pickpocketed in order to pay for some of the things you took!”

Scribe strode away from her, running a hand through his hair, fretting and grumbling. Lupin glanced over at Whiplash, who was lying in front of the cozy hearth, watching as Scribe paced around without missing a single move. He bared his teeth when the man came too close to him, nostrils flaring as smoke curled into the air. Scribe shot a sour look over at the Night Fury.

“Don’t you start getting huffy with me, reptile. You _helped_ her, after all that effort we took in locating you and your kind and bringing you here!”

“Which they didn’t ask for, so explain to me how he’s the one at fault for _that_?”

“Oh, please.” Scribe scoffed.

“Geez. And I thought your brother was a grumpy asshole.”

“Enough!” Scribe raised his voice, huffing. He smoothed his hair back, wringing his hands. “ _Enough_. You’ve done enough damage. We had to send a team to Thurso to clean up after you and to pay for all damages and stolen property as reimbursement.”

“Hey, I was gonna do that—”

“With what money, pray tell? Hmm?” He stared at her expectantly, like an exasperated teacher trying to reach an especially stupid child. She felt insulted on the look alone.

“Uh, when I get back to it, my own money that I was paid with in the military? You know, in my bank account and my savings?”

“It’s all been liquefied and dispersed of, you no longer have an account.” Scribe frowned at the abject horror crossing on Lupin’s face. “What? Dead people have no use or need for things such as bank accounts. We have our ways of getting these types of things done. Not easily, mind, but it was done all the same.”

“Dead people don’t have a need for breathing air or using shampoo or eating food, and yet here I am! Still kicking it!”

“Why didn’t you just _contact_ _us_? We could have provided whatever materials or supplies you requested.”

“ _How_? I don’t have any way with communicating with you assholes. I don’t have a fucking phone, thanks very much, and I sure as shit don’t want anything that you lot touched, anyways. You might have bugged it. I’d rather get those things for myself. Besides, what’re you gonna do, place an order on tampons for me or run to the store to get them yourself when I need them, huh? Because that’s shit I need, you know, being a goddamned woman and all.”

She glowered at the man, her hackles prickling with tension while her tail bristled. She almost reveled in the flash of fear and embarrassment that danced ever-so-briefly across Scribe’s face when she rose up to her feet. He waited for the moment to pass and gathered a semblance of control over himself. He smelled nervous and reeked of sweat and fear. Good. He needed to be reminded what she was, never mind who.

If he thought a little yelling was going to scare her, he obviously had been seriously ill-informed about her. Her drill instructors from boot camp were much scarier and nastier than he could ever hope to be. He sounded like he was Britain, but he in no way had the Bond villain voice down to pat.

“Here’s how it’s gonna work, man. One, you’re gonna get me my money back. All of it. Every cent. Or I’ll find a way to come after you and wring it out of your cold, dead hands. Two, you’re gonna get me a fucking internet connection out here. Don’t care how, just do it. Three, I’m gonna field all the shit that I want. Not some desk jockey you got on duty out in some office space god-knows-where who don’t know what the shit is going on when I get that connection. _Capische_?”

Scribe, for his part and rather admirably even by Lupin’s standards, held her gaze. A stream of silence weighed heavily between them for nearly a full minute. He swallowed thickly, blinked a few times as though he was waking up and cleared his throat.

“And what, pray tell, makes you think you can simply make demands with Chimera Dynamics?”

She scowled at him.

“How about the supposedly dead woman who can tear people in half without any effort? Or kill people with her brain?”

“You won’t do that. You’re not a soft or nice person, but you’re an inherently good person. It’s your flaw.” Scribe strolled slowly toward a wooden beam, picking up the cane he had left lying up against it. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “It’s your weakness. You _need_ me. You _need_ my brother. You need that connection with the world, and _we_ are that connection. We’re also the ones who can instantly destroy this island if we so desired, killing everyone and everything, and we won’t hesitate to do it if you step so much as a toe out of line again. We have the firepower to do it. You know we do.”

He kept a level gaze with her and she realized in that instant that there was a bit more than meets the eye with this man. Something dangerous, something deadly, something hidden beneath the surface. She growled in return, refusing to let herself be cowed by a simple look. She wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t _human_.

“Your conditions will only be met when we feel they are appropriate and you’ve been compliant with us. As of now, you are confined to the island. If you try to leave again, we will have this island destroyed. If anyone were to figure out why an island had been bombed, we’ll say it was the mindless violence of the Embers, and everyone will believe it. Any traces of the dragons will be eradicated. Valka will perish and you surely will as well. You might be fireproof and difficult to kill, being what you are, but you’re certainly not invincible. Try not to think of just yourself, just this once. Remember who else is at stake.”

He kept his eyes locked with hers, almost…pleadingly. There was a desperation in his pale stare, silently begging for her to listen. When he flicked his eyes away from her and toward the front door, she could smell the nervousness and fear double, sickly sweet and sour mixing together to create a noxious, worrisome stench. Lupin glanced over as well, confused. She could hear footsteps approaching, purposeful and clipped. She exchanged a look with Whiplash, who was up on his feet, ear-nubs pricked.

“What’s going on?”

Scribe didn’t answer, not at first. He strode forward, already grabbing her shoulders and gripping her tightly. Whiplash rumbled. She jerked out of his grip, a threatening growl already on her lips but she stopped cold when she saw the undulated terror written on his face.

“What the fuck is going on here?” She repeated.

“An ancient empire not of this world is already risen. It’s here, it’s hiding in plain sight, but the resistance is growing to meet it head on, like embers rising from the ashes. Miss Ferus, don’t trust anyone—”

The door flew open. Scribe’s face went blank, his hands drawn to his sides, his eyes boring into her. She turned away to look at the new distraction. Whiplash snarled softly but stopped short of pouncing when Lupin called for him to stay where he was.

Standing in the doorway was a stranger, garbed in a dark long-sleeved shirt and cargo pants with modified body armour fitted over everything. There was a large pistol holstered to his hip and a knife strapped at his shoulder. He was tall and burly, perhaps about six-foot-four. His shoulders were broad and she had a feeling there was a decent amount of muscle to his frame beneath the body armour. The stranger’s hair was black and neatly trimmed, his face clean shaven. His eyes were pale blue, like ice chips, and she felt a chill sweep over her when he trained them on her. He kept his hands pinned to the small of his back.

Unwittingly, she raised the heat surrounding her to the point where Scribe had to take a few steps back for relief. He, in turn, kept his gaze on the stranger.

“Thrax.”

“Scribe. You’re taking an awfully long time.”

Scribe was quiet, but Lupin could smell the stench of fear simply wafting off the man. He feared this man more than he feared her. She felt a little insulted. The man before her wasn’t anything supernatural, but…

Her ears twitched and she focused on them instead of what her nose told her. She could hear the faint hum, thrum, click, and whorl of machinery and gears working, almost seamlessly.

 _He’s got prosthetic limbs,_ she realized. _One arm, maybe both. Definitely both legs._

Every step he made, she could hear them working to adjust to the constant movement. The stranger, Thrax, turned his attention elsewhere, studying Valka’s home. An amused smile briefly tugged at the corner of his lips, especially when he spotted Whiplash stepping over closer toward Lupin, his wings curled menacingly as he bared his teeth.

Thrax returned his gaze to train on Lupin and Scribe.

“You talk too much, Scribe. You think your pretty words will keep you protected, but one day, they’re going to end up becoming the noose around your neck, and then snap. A short drop and a sudden stop is all it takes.’

“Xerxes has faith in my abilities to use my words to accomplish his goals, same as my brother. I suggest you show the same respect.”

Thrax huffed softly, not quite a laugh but close.

“Respect is earned. Not given,” Thrax said. His voice was soft, but there was an unsettling weight to it. His gaze shifted to focus on Lupin. She held it with a glare. “And you. Acting like a pompous, spoiled child. Dead people have no rights. Consider this the next time the thought of making demands crosses your mind: I’ll come down here myself with a delivery and it certainly won’t be with any of the items you demanded. It’ll be a silver bullet for your skull. Do I make myself clear?”

Lupin clenched her jaw, tipping her chin back to glower at Thrax. Scribe looked like a beanpole in comparison, ready to be snapped over Thrax’s knee. She could see why he’d be more than a little afraid of the man, especially when most of his limbs seemed to be manmade. That didn’t mean she would be easily cowed. She was a goddamned _werewolf_. She didn’t underestimate humans, true. But that didn’t mean she was afraid of them, either.

 “Are you serious right now? Who the fuck do you think you are? You think strutting in here like you’re hot shit is gonna make me afraid of you, just like that? Fuck off, you overpaid security guard.” She scoffed. Playing it up as the tough man wasn’t going to throw her off her game. She’s dealt with worse. Thrax studied her for a moment, considering her, his face blank and impassive. He sighed, closing his eyes.

“No. I suppose ‘strutting’ wouldn’t.” He raised a hand from behind his back, poised and ready to snap his fingers. They were garbed in fingerless gloves, and while it looked whole and normal, she could smell the latex skin covering. “But this might.”

He snapped his fingers, a crisp and clear sound she wouldn’t think he’d be able to make with prosthetic digits. A few split seconds passed and nothing happened. She glanced over at Scribe, opening her mouth to ask a question, but it fell away when she felt her body was…floating.

A weightless sensation washed over her as her pawed feet were no longer touching the floor. Whiplash startled when he spied her from the corner of his eye, his earlier menacing forgotten as he trotted toward her. She missed grabbing at the table and anything else that might have helped steady her. Scribe was still stable and firmly planted on the ground and he gaped at her openly, his shoulders tense. He whipped his attention between Thrax and Lupin, his face written with plain distress.

“Thrax, stop this at once, you’ve made your point!”

“I don’t think I have. In fact, this isn’t even the point at all.”

Something winked in the glow of the hearth’s firelight. Lupin caught sight of it from the corner of her eye, but it was gone before she could see what it was.

“Weightlessness,” Thrax called to her. She snarled, once again uselessly flailing for something to grab hold of. She felt ridiculous! She was just out of reach of the table, the ceiling, a wooden beam—hell, even Scribe was just out of reach. “It must feel terrifying to not be in control. To feel the gravity of things spiraling out of hand and well out of reach. Wouldn’t you say?” His pale eyes shimmered cruelly as he watched on impassively.

Whiplash started forward, muscles bunched up to leap after her. He barely got liftoff before the sensation overcame him as well, trapping him in the cycle the same as her. He yowled and flailed his tail, smacking it on the hearth mantle. The momentum sent him spinning helplessly out of control. She made to grab hold of him, but she was shy just a few inches of contact. She couldn’t even pantomime swimming to where she wanted. She was stuck right where she was.

 “Thrax!”

“You sonuvabitch, put us down!”

“Not until my point is made.”

“Thrax, don’t!”

The wink of something shiny settled in line of sight once more. She caught only the barest glimpse of it before it was sent hurtling straight for her. The force of it slammed her into a wooden beam, pinning her there. Lupin gasped for a breath, struggled to get her lungs to work properly.

_That shouldn’t…that shouldn’t have hurt me. What’s he doing to me?_

She glanced down, the weight of pressure crushing down on her chest and she stared dumbly at the object that was there. It was a sword. A great, big broadsword and it was imbedded in her chest, pinning her down. The heft of the realization didn’t hit her full force until the pain did. It bloomed through her and spread out quickly, engulfing her entire body until all she knew, all she wanted, was to get the fucking sword out of her.

_I can feel it shredding my heart, my lungs, it’s slicing through my spine—!_

“Thrax, get it out of her, you can’t—”

She couldn’t scream, could barely breathe, the most she could accomplish was to wheeze as she tried to grab at the hilt and tug it out. She peeled her lips back into a grimace, baring her teeth at Thrax.

The most she accomplished was slipping her hands along the hilt, so she scrabbled at the blade instead. She ended up slicing her fingers to the bone, painting the naked steel with her blood. As soon as she pulled them away, the flesh healed instantly, but the pain in her hands paled in comparison to that in her chest. Whatever he was doing, he was keeping it locked in position and no matter how much or how hard she tugged, it wouldn’t budge. What made it worse was the crushing pressure slowly but surely pressing down on her. It was as though she was deep diving in the ocean, feeling the heaviness engulf her.

Her movements became slow and sluggish as the seconds ticked by, her focus turning blurred at the edges until she wanted was to pass out.

Whiplash roared in fury, lashing out his tail and wings in an attempt to right himself. He fired off a blast that struck the ceiling and it rattled the rafters.

“Can’t what, exactly? Yelling at deaf ears won’t serve any purpose here and that’s all you’re doing. Showing what we can do with force will. My point, Miss Ferus—and I mean that in all senses possible—is that if you disobey what Chimera Dynamics requires of you, not only will your loved ones suffer, but you will as well. I’ll do it myself, and it certainly won’t be as impersonal as switching the gravity off to render you helpless. I’ll make sure the light goes out in your eyes with my own hands. Do I make myself clear?”

The sword twisted with his words. She cried out hoarsely, wordless, without air. She tried cursing at him, but the most that came out was a wet, angry rasp. She tasted blood at the back of her throat and it spattered across her tongue, coppery to the taste and hot to the touch. Scribe hurried over, attempting to grab at the sword hilt, but whatever force Thrax was utilizing, he used it to throw the man aside, slamming him into a wall to keep him pinned there. “Stay out of this, Scribe. I want to hear it from her.”

“She can’t speak, you’ve cut at too much—get the damned sword out of her!”

“I didn’t clip her vocal chords. Come now, Miss Ferus. Just a few simple words and I’ll let you go.”

 _Bastard!_ She thought with a grimace as the sword gave another sharp, agonizing twist. Thrax watched her dispassionately, his face betraying no emotion or thoughts. _Motherfucking asshole!_ _He’s a fucking mutant—_

“I’m getting impatient.”

“You’re going to kill her!”

“She’s a werewolf. Her body can take a little punishment.”

“THRAX, PUT HER DOWN NOW!”

Thrax stole a look over toward Scribe, frowning in disapproval. A moment of electrified tension passed between the two of them. Thrax opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted when a stray blast knocked him clear off his feet and right into the wall clear across the room. The rafters shook and dust gently sifted down from the ceiling. Thrax collapsed with a grunt as Whiplash thudded to the ground heavily. The heavy sensation that was keeping the sword pinned in her chest lifted. She yanked it out and fell hard to her knees as the sword clattered to the ground alongside her. Lupin coughed explosively, feeling another spurt of hot liquid coating her mouth and tasting like copper. Scribe stumbled on his feet over to her, helping her sit up.

“Breathe, just breathe—keep your shoulders back, don’t hunch over like that. Is everything healing up properly?”

She pushed him away when she could catch her breath, placing a hand on her chest, over where the sword had been. Her heart was hammering away mercilessly against her ribcage, but every beat was growing stronger until the pain completely subsided.

“Fuckin’ psychopaths, all of you. Get the fuck away from me.”

“Miss Ferus, I—”

“Get. Away. From. Me.” She snarled it all out, making sure to show her fangs at the man by her side.

Scribe stared at her helplessly, his mouth hanging open. He conceded after a few instants passed, reluctance painting his movements. He turned his solemn gaze into a steady and furious glare to settle on Thrax, who picked himself up off the ground, holding his head. Blood coated the side of his temple and matted his dark hair.

The whispered hush of leather wings unfolding alerted Lupin and she rolled into Whiplash’s protective side, drawing comfort in the feel of his heated body and roiling fury. She found herself growling quietly alongside the Night Fury, sharing in his hatred toward the man. Scribe was already striding over in clipped steps, grabbing hold of Thrax’s arm and promptly shoved him toward the door. Or tried to, anyway. Thrax barely stumbled and regained his balance rather quickly, standing his ground. He towered over Scribe, but that didn’t stop the smaller man from poking at Thrax’s chest.

“Get out. Right now, get out. You had no right. Xerxes is going to hear about this.”

Thrax harrumphed, looking unimpressed with the threat.

“Of course he will. You rats are always scurrying about, hissing away whatever tidings you wish into his ears. One day, he’ll grow sick of your whispered lies and deem it fit to dispose of you for the rodents you and your brother are. I’ll be happy to oblige with that order when he does.”

He turned on his heel with that said, promptly stepping out of the house. Scribe was shaking, Lupin came to notice, when it was just the three of them alone again. She could smell a potent blend of fear and rage coming from him.

“Miss Ferus,” he said, breaking the silence between them. His voice was trembling almost as much as his body was, but she could sense he was trying to regain his composure. “Miss Ferus, I…I am so sorry that happened. I want you to know, that I had nothing to do with that stunt Thrax just pulled with you. I hadn’t the slightest clue he’d be so brutal.”

Lupin said nothing. He looked her way when she allowed silence to fill in for her voice, worry streaking across his features. Whiplash snarled softly. He sighed.

“Miss Ferus. I’m sure you’ve already noticed changes to this place. Some subtle, others not so much. Soon…very soon, this place will no longer just be Berk. It will become something else, something bigger, something…different. The island will change. When they begin happening, please…let us know. My brother and I only. We’ll handle the information from there.” He sucked in a quiet breath, dipping a hand inside his trouser pockets and withdrew a slim tablet. He tapped it three times. “Your bank account will be reopened, with all funds reimbursed. Your payments will be deposited under the same account. Under a new name, of course. A strictly monitored internet connection will be implemented, as requested. Any supplies you may wish for in the future, can be applied to the app found in your phone.”

He looked gaunt and ashen, his brow lined with sweat. When he smiled, it was thin and exhausted. “Try to keep it reasonable.”

Quietly, Scribe turned on his own heel and he too took his leave. Whiplash rumbled low and angrily, long after the man had left and only fell silent when he realized Lupin was no longer emitting any noise at all. Instead, she placed a hand on his neck, giving it a soft scratch, stood, and crossed the room to pick up the phone.

It was the same old phone she had had on her the day she had died.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**


	6. Blow Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Hahaha—no. I do not, nor will I ever, own any media showcased in this piece of fanfiction. They all belong to their respective creators and owners. The only thing I (barely) own is this piece are the written works and the original characters within it.
> 
> Warnings: There will be cursing, violence, mild nudity, blood, gore, and a few other minor things under the rainbow with this fic.
> 
> Note: Happy Holidays to all and to all a good night...here's an update! An early Christmas present for y'all. :P Also, I goofed and accidentally re-posted chapter three instead of this. Whoops! Sorry, y'all. XD

**Chapter Six:  
Blow Up**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

_“So, how's your first day going, little sister?”_  
“You mean since you ditched me and I exploded? _”_  
“Yikes, meltdown already?”  
“No, I literally _exploded a hole in front of the school. And there was fire and I think some ice.”_  
“…are you being sarcastic?”  
“I wish! _”  
_**-Yang and Ruby, “ _RWBY_ ”**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

“You should have killed him.”

“ _Wow_. That’s your response what happened, huh? I was _not_ expecting that kind of answer. I honestly wasn’t.”

Lupin ran a hand over her chest, still not quite shaking off the feeling of the sword imbedded in there. It had cleaved right through with little effort, carving through bone, muscle, flesh. The sword itself was expertly crafted, of course, but the way blade was made of steel, not silver. The way it stayed wedged inside and how all that density had compressed down on her body had not been natural. Thrax had to be a mutant with some kind of psychic abilities, and he was powerful.

_I could have bled out and died because of that asshole. Even as a werewolf, I know I have my limits. He would have watched me die like a punk that got shot in the gut on the street. He wouldn’t have let me heal if Scribe wasn’t there. He clipped my heart. Literally._

“A Viking would not have taken such insults so lightly. He threatened my life, the lives of all the dragons on Berk, and your life. He tried to _end_ it!”

Lupin shivered and just barely kept back her remarks. _Yeah, I remember. I was there._

“Well, I’m not a Viking. And I am incredibly surprised at you, Valka. Here I thought you were some peacekeeper on a higher calling kind of mission to preserve life.”

The older woman averted her eyes, crossing her arms defensively.

“I dedicated half my life to protecting dragons from other Vikings, once I learned just how amazing these creatures were. How wrong we were of them.” Valka’s gaze hardened and she pursed her lips. “Human beings, on the other hand, are…treacherous. Difficult. Some deserved the ends that they’ve come to meet.”

Lupin’s ears slowly fell against the side of her head at the unspoken allegations Valka was implying. A hushed silence passed between the two of them. Whiplash nudged Lupin’s elbow and she wordlessly propped her arm up on the crown of his head, scratching at his brow.

“Um...so…what did Scribble talk to you about?”

“Not much. He is not very much like his brother, I’m to guess.”

“No,” Lupin agreed with a shake of her head. “Scribe seems to be all talk. I think Scribble is all thought. Or maybe even action.”

“Silver-tongued liars, the lot of them. Perhaps they’re emissaries of Loki.”

“The god of lies?”

Valka nodded. Lupin scratched the back of her head, her ears twitching.

“I don’t think so. I’m starting to doubt that there’s any kind of work from the Norse gods involved here. Or any deity whatsoever, for that matter.”

The older woman sighed, uncrossing her arms dejectedly.

“I don’t know what to believe in anymore. Things are not what they seem to be as they used to be.”

“Yeah, I feel ya.” Lupin paused. “Which reminds me…Scribe said something odd to me. Before Thrax showed up.”

“Oh?”

The werewolf frowned and couldn’t shake the knot of tension that was beginning to grow at the base of her shoulders, winding tighter and tighter still as it wound up to engulf her neck and skull and spine.. Valka was watching her expectantly.

“Yeah, he said…something about an ancient empire rising. One that isn’t from around here, but some kind of resistance was going to rise up and meet it head on.” She hesitated before adding more softly, “like embers from the ashes. He said not to trust anyone, but I think he had more. He just didn’t get a chance to finish before Thrax barged in.”

A thoughtful expression creased Valka’s face, most likely rolling the words around in her head. Lupin was doing much the same, but for other reasons. Like embers from the ashes…

She almost would have laughed at the irony, if the memory wasn’t so bitter.

 _From Embers to Ashes_ had been the name of her old band back in high school, before she had left for the military. She had been hoping to revive the band, and had been in the process of doing so before the attempt on her life. It had been James’s idea.

Her throat tightened up at the memory of James, her late fiancé. He had been the one encouraging her to pursue her dreams of making it big in the music industry. He had also been the one to talk her into reviving the old band, in setting things up to get more serious. As corny as it may have sounded to anyone looking in, she felt like he had been her inspiration, her muse…the rekindling to her passion for music.

That was then, when he had been alive, but now he was gone.

She missed him. She missed his smile, his laugh, his support, his everything. He had been the first person she’d opened up to in years. He had been the first person who didn’t want to obligate himself with reporting her as a mutant who also happened to be a werewolf. If anything, he helped her hide it all from others and now…now that safety net of sharing a secret with someone else was gone.

It felt like only yesterday she had been boarding a plane, flying home from deployment on emergency leave to attend his funeral.

_Well, now I don’t have that fire under my ass because you’re dead and gone. Can’t make a fire when you’ve got nothing but ashes left._

Lupin composed herself, pushing aside the caustic memory. She wasn’t quite ready to face it yet, not like this. Not when she already had too much on her plate. Now wasn’t the time to break down.

“There was something else, too.”

Valka’s attention returned to her once again. Lupin sucked in a breath, nice and slow.

“He mentioned that Berk was going to change. That…it’d no longer be Berk, but it’d change into something else. That the island itself was going to grow bigger, like it’s already doing, and that if we notice anything else, we should let him and his brother know immediately.”

“Not Chimera Dynamics, but the twins directly,” Valka pressed cautiously. Lupin hesitated, then nodded.

“Yeah. Exactly. That’s how he made it sound.”

Valka expelled a slow breath, propping her hands on her hips. “I think…we may have more solid allies than we were first led to believe.”

“Doesn’t mean we have to trust them anymore than we already do.”

“No,” Valka agreed with a nod. “But it means we might have a higher chance at keeping things from this Xerxes person than we originally thought.”

Grudgingly, Lupin had to concede to Valka’s point, although she didn’t wholeheartedly believe that. There was still a chance of them being betrayed. She didn’t want to be caught blindsided when that day came.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

The great behemoth was exhausted. His body was strained and wanted nothing but rest. His pride hurt as well as his body. He had failed his master. Failed to prove himself.

Now his master was gone, washed away with the currents to depths unknown.

The sea offered little reprieve. It carried him along, yes, but he wanted to truly rest, to not depend upon the currents to take him along wherever they wished.

The great beast reached out, tentative and haltingly, until he felt a connection. There was a flock nearby.

He had nothing to offer. He had been bested by one much smaller than he, and one of his great horns blasted off. He was no Alpha, even if he had been groomed all his life to become one.

But maybe, just maybe, they would grant him sanctuary. Rest. Peace.

He was so very tired.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

“All right, so...right here?”

“Yes, that’s the spot. Dig your knuckle down, but not too deeply—you don’t want to hurt him. Especially with your strength.”

Lupin bore down with her knuckles as instructed, right along a particular spot along Whiplash’s broad neck. He timbered and shuddered in response, and then quite suddenly, the spiny leathery protrusions jutting out along his backside split open to create a doubled row. Lupin jerked her hand back, while Whiplash twisted to get a better look. He jittered on the spot, aiming a rather toothless grin at her in excitement, his wild green eyes alit and bright.

The other Night Furies gathered around closer, sniffing at Whiplash’s backside and glancing around at Lupin and at Valka pleadingly.

“Och, I’ll get to you all soon enough!” Valka laughed when one of them pawed at her insistently, jaws gaping in an attempt to appeal to her the best. Lupin was already clambering onto Whiplash’s saddle. Valka had helped in the crafting of it, although she preferred to not use one, Lupin has come to find. She was used to traversing about in the air on Cloudjumper’s—and any other dragon, for that matter—backside without one.

They finished with the rest of the Night Furies, and Valka took a few steps back to survey the curve-backed dragons admiring their new features. She smiled broadly at them all and laughed when two of them mobbed Lupin and just about knocked her down before she managed to scramble away.

“Do all dragons do that, or is it just them?” She panted as she glanced at Valka. The older woman laughed softly, shifting her crook from one hand to the other.

“Very few are gifted with the precision and speed that a Night Fury possesses,” she replied, motioning to the dragons that were still admiring their backsides, flipping the leather spikes open and shut. “Most do not have this feature, but there are exceptions.”

“Fun. So, now what?”

“Now?” Valka offered a mischievous smile to Lupin. The werewolf’s ears slowly began to fall flat against her head. _I don’t like that smile,_ she suddenly thought. _That’s usually the smile I give when I’m about to do something fun. Or stupid. Or both._

Valka moved to where Cloudjumper sat and clambered nimbly up to his broad shoulders, looking quite at home atop the Stormcutter.

“Now, it’s time for your lessons.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

He was closer now. His trek was slow going. The currents were strong, but they were sluggish in pushing him along. He could afford to bide his time.

The flock was strong and numerous, and…wait…

It felt familiar, some of the minds he was grazing, probing tentatively. Quite a number of them had once been under his sway, captured for his master. The rest he had stolen away himself after killing their last Alpha. And then they were all spirited away from him in return, by one he had stolen and then lost shortly after, by the one who in turn became Alpha.

He did not feel the presence of that one, but there was one of his kind present. Several of them, in fact.

He was hesitant in continuing any further, slowing his progress forward toward the islet. Should he grace his presence to this flock or should he simply move on? The need to replenish his diminishing air reserves was growing stronger the longer he delayed. He had no choice. Slowly, grudgingly, he began to rise from the depths.

If he was quick, perhaps he could slip away unnoticed.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Valka had a very… _interesting_ …way of teaching, and that was an incredibly generous way to put it as. When Lupin had asked if she had ever taught anyone before her, Valka only laughed.

The sound of it had quickly been carried away by the wind and by the sheer speed Whiplash was taking her away with. She leaned into the wind, pressing herself tighter against the saddle and holding on tight as the Night Fury turned sharply on a dive, giving a sinuous twist midway and then quite suddenly, they were rising up at a sheer angle.

Valka told her that she’d need to grow used to riding the speeds that a Night Fury flourished under. “They’re creatures born to ride hard and fast into the wind and through the sky. They were built for sharp turns, high speed, and most importantly, flight at its finest, just like all dragons.”

She caught glimpses of Valka here and there, mostly in the corner of her eye, as Whiplash took her through a nearly literal crash course of reckless speeding through the air. The Night Fury was utterly delighted and elated to be doing so. His passenger…not so much.

And all the while, she’d hear Valka laughing on occasion, as well as shouting encouraging words or pointers to the werewolf as they zipped past her. 

_I swear, if only NASA had one of these dragons for their astronauts, they’d probably be trained a lot quicker than those spinning machines they stick ‘em inside, because holy fuck!_

She was sure, at one point, the Night Fury had broken the sound barrier. She was pretty sure of it. These lessons were so different in comparison to her first few weeks and she was also pretty damned sure Valka had been toying with her those initial few lessons, biding her time until they got to the more advanced flight lessons.

At other points, Valka would come spiraling in seemingly out of nowhere, and with how all noise was going topsy-turvy, Lupin couldn’t pinpoint the woman as readily and as quickly as she’d like. It was discombobulating and unnerving, to say the least, and even more so when Valka encouraged her to drop off of Whiplash’s saddle when they flew so high, the island of Berk was nothing but a tiny speck against a sparkling expanse of deep blue.

Reluctantly, Lupin did so the first time, and the rush was…exhilarating. She almost believed it would have been like the indescribable sensation she had experienced under Thrax’s influence, but freefalling was so different, it was practically a different ballgame altogether. She was more willing to bend to Valka’s methods after the first time. Every time she let herself slip from the saddle and into freefall, it seemed to take forever for the ocean to come rushing up to meet her.

She felt she had all the time in the world to gather her bearings and survey everything around her: from the far hazy line of the horizon where sea met sky, to the pinprick of Berk and sea spires that surrounded its coast. It was because of her idling thoughts that she failed to hear Valka’s warning the first few times the woman issued it. It wasn’t until Whiplash came surging after her, scooping her up unexpectedly and without warning, jerking her to a grinding halt midair that her attention came full circle. Valka and Cloudjumper weren’t far behind, pulling out of their dive and banking around her and Whiplash gracefully.

Valka’s eyes were locked on the ocean waves below. Lupin clamped her mouth shut before she glanced down as well. Below, Lupin could see with great clarity how the waves grew frothy and tumultuous, spiking upwards in great arcing splashes and waves. Something big was rising from the depths.

Lupin looked up to see Valka’s face alit with interest, caution, delight, horror, fascination—all of them and more rolling across her face like a summer storm, quick as a wink, before it settled on attentive wariness.

“What is it?”

Valka didn’t answer. She was already up on her feet, perfectly balancing herself upon Cloudjumper’s broad shoulders, her hands occupied with gripping the shepherd’s crook. Cloudjumper growled ominously, yellow eyes focused on the waters with incredible intensity.

“Valka!”

That broke the older woman’s concentration and she met Lupin’s gaze, blinking away her dazed state. She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped herself short when the waters exploded upwards suddenly, showering them all in a fine mist. A great tusk speared the skies, shackled by a huge piece of iron. Ice crackled in the air, and a great yawning maw ringed by small sharp teeth and a huge dusty grey-and-red face rose to greet them. Blue eyes ringed with red stared up at them, slit pupils growing wider as they assessed the two riders and dragons.

Valka froze at the sight of the monster. Whiplash yowled as Cloudjumper trumpeted his displeasure, tension lining his body.

“What in the fuck is that thing? Valka!”

“It’s a Bewilderbeast!

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

That human woman was here.

The one who had called the last Bewilderbeast to challenge him…and lost.

And yet, it was the young human with the Night Fury who had bested him. Not the challenging Bewilderbeast Alpha. Not the Stormcutter he had stolen away from the woman.

The Night Fury.

And there, at her side, there was the Night Fury.

But wait…

No.

It was not the same one.

This one was younger, smaller. Inexperienced.

This Night Fury did not have the same strong-willed mind of the one that had taken his title, dishonoured him in the eyes of his master, and broke one of his great tusks. Yet it was a Night Fury all the same hovering in the skies above him. An elusive, secretive species, he had only come across one once before in his long life, before being defeated by one.

His master had worn its scaly hide as a cloak shortly after the encounter for years to come.

His exhaustion had stolen his caution. He had been careless. He hadn’t checked the air above the sea to ensure it was clear of any dragons or riders.

The Stormcutter and his human rider did nothing. The unknown Night Fury and his rider, another unknown entity, did nothing as well. Conflict tore through him. Should he attack or should he leave, submerge himself into the deep waters and disappear without a trace? If he attacked, he could bring about the rage of the new Alpha, wherever they were, or whenever they returned if they weren’t readily here. If he left, they might hunt him down all the same.

He flinched when the Night Fury tipped his wings into a dive, a curious look painted on the tiny rider’s face as they drew closer. The Stormcutter’s rider cried out a warning, but the Night Fury and his rider alike paid no heed as they circled above.

He puffed out a breath, ice misting into the air. The rider—another female—barely took notice, and neither did the Night Fury. They barely even slowed as they continued their downward spiral. It was only when they were close enough to his great tusk that they could have touched it did the Stormcutter and his rider react.

They dove rapidly, spinning expertly into the air currents with practiced ease to drive the Night Fury and his rider away.

Curious.

It would seem the Stormcutter’s rider was still cautious of him, fallen in disgrace or not.

He watched as the two battered around in the skies before the Stormcutter bulled the young Night Fury and his rider back toward the island. He watched and found, in spite of himself, that he was fascinated, skeptical, wary, and braced by the display before him. It could be a trap. It could be a deception, to catch him unawares.

He had already been proven wrong once before about the deceptive power of a Nighty Fury. It was not a mistake he was like to make again. Yet his interest continued to pique him, overriding his caution. The woman and her dragon had once been his master’s enemy and by extension, his enemy as well. She had once been championed by the Alpha Bewilderbeast he had killed in combat.

Now she was championed by an Alpha that apparently wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Slowly, he shifted in the water, feeling the currents tug him closer toward the island. The stroke of his tail helped propel him a little bit faster, but it was a tiring effort all on its own.

He was so exhausted. His rage had no hold on him, not now. He simply wanted to rest. The island was the closest shore he has seen in such a long time.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

“He’s following us! Is that a good or bad thing? And is it a he or is it a she or both or what?”

Valka ignored the plaintive questions from the werewolf. Cloudjumper growled low and deep, the vibrations traveling up into her and it reflected her own mood. Ominous and edgy, she found it to be an unusual circumstance and more than just coincidence that the same Bewilderbeast has come back to Berk.

 _And now he is following us,_ Valka thought when she glanced over her shoulder. The great behemoth was treading water at a glacial pace. He looked fatigued, his head just barely peaking above the choppy waters created by his passing. A slip of sympathy wormed its way into her and settled in her chest. She tried to dislodge it, but it was difficult, painful. To see a dragon suffering as much as this one has, and under the fist of a cruel and tyrannical man such as Drago Bludvist…

She wished she had known of this dragon’s anguish sooner. She could have liberated him years ago.

They touched down quickly on Berk. Lupin was not so quick to dismount, her attention still focused on the trailing Bewilderbeast. Whiplash thrummed with equally agitated energy, and his body language bordered on so many things, Valka could barely pick apart what he might do. An unpredictable dragon could be a very dangerous one indeed.

“Is…is he gonna Godzilla his way over here and blow this place up or should we just continue with our day? Because you’re kind of freaking out over there and I’m getting this…vibe from you that things aren’t all okay.”

Valka felt a weariness sinking heavily into her bones at the anxious tone Lupin spoke in. She didn’t always understand the vernacular in which the werewolf spoke in at times, but the message in between the lines was all the same. She was worried, and with good reason. Valka hadn’t been completely open with how Stoick had died and Drago’s involvement in it, or about the Bewilderbeast that had murdered her flock’s beloved Alpha all in one fell swoop.

The very same Bewilderbeast that Drago had tortured for countless years, no doubt, perhaps since he was a hatchling. Now he was treading his way back towards Berk a second time in his very long and miserable life.

Slowly, Valka gathered her words and steadied her hands. Cloudjumper leaned closer toward her and she reached back for him, drawing strength and comfort from his presence. He thrummed his support and love in soft growls, yellow eyes watching her carefully.

“Valka?”

“I’m sorry, Lupin…I…I have not been honest with you, in many things. Mostly because I was not ready to share, but I cannot be unjust with you now.”

Valka turned and strode back toward a precipice that overlooked the sea, catching full sight of the great behemoth that, instead of diving back down to the safeties of the deep waters, has instead kept his great crowned head above waters and was slowly making for Berk. The faded rust-reds and dust-greys and blacks of his hide were so drastically different from the pure whites and faded greys she had grown used to for twenty odd years of her own Bewilderbeast. This was a tortured soul, from the muted colours of his hide to the shackle still welded on the remaining tusk of Drago’s Bewilderbeast.

“There was a great battle, not that long ago for me. I had just found my son. My husband. I had just learned of the changes that they had accomplished here on Berk. How my village was learning to live with dragons instead of fighting and killing one them. Drago Bludvist saw no such resolution in a peaceful compromise. He wanted an army of dragons to command at his whim. He wanted to rule humans under the tyranny of dragon power.”

She sensed Lupin tiptoeing closer toward her, but she didn’t turn to face the other woman. Not yet.

“He was a madman who could not be reasoned with. Hiccup…he tried, but he failed. Drago’s army overtook us. His Bewilderbeast defeated the king of the dragon nest I resided with. He had him murdered and when that happened…he took my dragons. He stole Cloudjumper from me. He stole Toothless from Hiccup and he…he had Toothless try to kill Hiccup, but Stoick, he…he…”

Valka squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists at her side as she tried to breathe past the hard, painful knot that growing in her throat. She could feel every pained beat of her heart as it lodged itself there and it made her fight against it all the harder. She continued speaking once she trusted herself to do so.

“It was all Drago’s doing. He had tried to murder my son and Stoick lost his life instead. We managed to defeat Drago and his Bewilderbeast in the end. They fled the battle once they were, and we haven’t seen signs of either of them, until now.”

The older woman nodded toward the great behemoth that was slowing down now. Lupin was staring at the Bewilderbeast with a guarded expression.

“So…that dragon down there can just hijack other dragons’ minds? That’s kind of fucked up.”

“Bewilderbeasts are not born and bred to be kings. But they learn to earn that right to become great Alphas through combat. Alphas are supposed to protect their flocks. This dragon, though…he stole the kingship and in return, Toothless took that away from him when he and Hiccup defeated him.”

“What are we gonna do? If what you said is true, then Toothless is the Alpha here, right?”

Valka nodded as she turned to look at Lupin. She was caught off guard by the werewolf’s anxious countenance.

“We don’t have Toothless here to scare him off, and if they can do the whole hive mind thing, I’m pretty sure Big Boy down there is going to know off the bat that we don’t exactly have an Alpha presiding over this flock. Aren’t you worried that he might…try to go on a roaring rampage of revenge or something on this island once he figures that out?”

She considered Lupin’s words for a brief interim, frowning as she returned her attention back to the Bewilderbeast below. He seemed to be resting in the shallower part of the bay, his massive sides heaving, his eyes closed, and his long powerful tail swaying beneath the waves.

“No,” she decided at last. “No, I don’t. I don’t believe he has ill intentions with us. Even if he was under Drago’s influence for such a time…I have to believe there might be some good in him. Some part of him that was corrupted but can be reversed, given enough time and care. Good dragons under the control of bad people do bad things but that doesn’t mean they’re inherently evil. If he has been alone all this time, well away from Drago…perhaps there’s hope for him yet.”

Lupin didn’t look entirely convinced, but for the time being, she seemed ready enough to trust Valka, however reluctant she was. For that small token of faith, Valka was grateful.

“So what are we going to do?”

Valka deliberated Lupin’s question, her frown returning as she did.

Drago was no longer here to influence his agenda on the Bewilderbeast before them, true enough. But the real question of the matter was whether or not the dragon was still under the tyrant’s sway, even without the man present. She had to believe he wasn’t.

“I’ll handle things.”

“Uh…this is probably a stupid question, and you can totally laugh at me if you want for asking, but…” Lupin cleared her throat. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Valka cast a reproachful look at the werewolf. Lupin, in turn, did not look one bit abashed. If anything, she looked a bit angry.

“You’re gonna tell me to sit here while you go down there and play dragon lady, fine. What happens if he hurts you? Or Cloudjumper? Or one of the other dragons and goes on a rampage? What do I do? Just continue to sit here and do nothing, twiddle my thumbs, hope for the best?”

“I would certainly hope not. After all this time together, I would expect you to not be so apathetic if things were to go wrong,” Valka finally answered after another careful moment of consideration. That brought a fresh wave of shameless surprise to paint itself across Lupin’s face. She flashed the werewolf a wane smile as she turned back to Cloudjumper. The Stormcutter blinked slowly at her, with one eye first and then the other, before dipping his shoulder downwards. She wordlessly clambered back up onto his backside with practiced ease.

Whiplash shot up to his feet and nudged at Lupin’s elbow in excitement, his wings twitching in anticipation.

“No,” she called to the Night Fury, who stilled his movements at the sound of her voice. She turned her gaze back onto Lupin. “Let me handle this. I can’t risk letting you get hurt. If things go wrong…get the dragons to safety. Don’t linger or dawdle.”

 _If you can,_ she wanted to add, but instead swallowed back down with a sour taste in the back of her throat. Worry clawed at her heart worse than any dragon’s talons could.

 _What sign could this possibly be and what does it mean for us_ , she wondered, turning away from the outcry from Lupin, practically begging her to wait, to come back. Cloudjumper leapt into the air and the familiar sensation of the wind tugging at her from every direction swirled around her heavily, almost comfortingly like an old friend.

The twins, Scribe and Scribble, had warned them both that changes would be coming to Berk.

Was this what they meant by that, and if so…was it for better or worse?

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

They say things happen for a reason.

Lupin would have liked it to be put on the record, if one existed, that whoever ‘they’ were, she wanted to punch them in the face. She would have to add them to the long laundry list of people she wanted to punch in the face, which included the twins Scribe and Scribble, that half-cybernetic bastard Thrax, and of course Xerxes was right at the top.

The Bewilderbeast had been with them for nearly a week now, and it didn’t seem to show any signs of leaving. Valka has since shifted her attentions from Lupin’s flying lessons to the draconic titan, slowly easing the dragon into a sense of ease and comfort—something it didn’t seem to quite understand or comprehend at first. In fact, she didn’t believe he still quite got it. Valka had explained, based on her own theories, that the Bewilderbeast Drago had raised was most likely a victim of abuse. Those who managed to break a dragon’s spirit tended to abuse the powers and might that entailed to their natures.

Lupin worried more about Valka’s safety than anything.

The way she had spoken about the Bewilderbeast and by extension, his previous master, this Drago Bludvist, it made her antsy.

What if this dragon decided to try and kill Valka and Cloudjumper, and every dragon on the island? What if the Bewilderbeast tried to destroy Berk?

Valka seemed confident in her plans, and while Lupin wanted to trust her—and she did, she really did—that nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong just wouldn’t go away.

So, every day, she’d take to her flying lessons, although she didn’t completely commit to them. Instead, she kept her attentions occupied with keeping an especially close eye on the Bewilderbeast from afar while Valka worked painstakingly with the dragon.

He was skittish and more than a bit snappish with the woman, which fueled her suspicions that he might just snap and attack. Whenever Lupin pointed it out, the older woman would wave her concerns away in that patient manner of hers and explain that the Bewilderbeast has most likely had such a harsh life that trust was something of a foreign concept to him.

“He needs time. Who knows how long it’s really been for him being away from the influence from Drago? And Bewilderbeasts take such a long time to grow to the size they do. Drago must have had him since he was young, if he was able to bend such a powerful dragon to his will so fully. Please…trust me. That’s all I ask. Don’t jump to conclusions. Don’t make any rash decisions. Give me time to work with him.”

There wasn’t much else Lupin could do. Sure, she could try to keep Valka away—strength was relatively not a problem on Lupin’s side of things—but that would be just plain shitty of Lupin.

 _I don’t know these animals better than her,_ she’d tell herself in the end. _She’s the dragon lady, not me. She’s had over two decades’ worth of experience building up her resume on these things. I’ve got maybe a month’s worth of time put into this._

For now, despite the urge to say ‘fuck it’ and not listen to her, Lupin decided that she’d trust Valka’s instincts, her expertise, her experience. Lupin realized after the first week she shouldn’t rush in making hasty choices, just because she didn’t understand half of what was going on.

 _Maybe I should help instead of just sitting around,_ she thought. _If I stay close, I can keep an eye on things. Moping around and glaring from a distance isn’t doing anything except quite possibly giving me an ulcer. Wait, can I even get ulcers? Whatever. Not important._

Lupin rolled over on her side, scooting closer to the edge of her bed to let her arm slump over and reach for Whiplash. He startled at the brush of her fingers against his head initially, but calmed almost immediately and crooned softly. She found herself smiling as he butted at her hand, vying for her attention.

“You’re a weird one, you know that, Whip?” She said softly. He warbled back, inching his way closer to press against the edge of her borrowed bed. She swept her fingers across the crown of his head and gently rubbed at the ear nub with the notch in it. “What do you say to helping Valka tomorrow, huh? You wanna hang out with her? We ain’t done much with her in the last week. How’s that sound?”

Whiplash snuffled back and shuddered. She patted his head and retreated her hand, earning a mournful little whine from the Night Fury. “Get some rest, Whiplash. We’ll get up and get some night flying before dawn, okay?”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**


	7. Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Hahaha—no. I do not, nor will I ever, own any media showcased in this piece of fanfiction. They all belong to their respective creators and owners. The only thing I (barely) own is this piece are the written works and the original characters within it.
> 
> Warnings: There will be cursing, violence, mild nudity, blood, gore, and a few other minor things under the rainbow with this fic.
> 
> Notes: Happy New Year's, my lovelies! May 2017 be a more prosperous and happy year for all of y'all!

**Chapter Seven:  
Reason**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

_“Why are you here?”_ **  
** _“You believe in reason above all else. There must be a reason.”_ **  
**-House and The Answer, “**** _House M.D._ ”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

A grey dawn rose to greet the following morning, accompanied by a thick, unrelenting fog that blanketed everything without respite.

When Lupin and Whiplash returned from their early morning flight, Valka and Cloudjumper were already gone for the day, with food laid out for the both of them. Whiplash dove into the bowl of fish left especially for him with fervor, while Lupin tucked into the food for her: a wedge of cheese, a chunk of slightly stale bread, and some salted meat, along with a drink which was something Valka had called buttermilk. It wasn’t the greatest beverage, but it was better than nothing—although to be fair, Lupin probably would have preferred a beer.

She hasn’t had a beer in over a year. It wasn’t exactly a readily available commodity while deployed overseas, and after supposedly being dead for about six months, well…

_Maybe I’ll add it to the ‘get me shit’ list the twins have yet to fulfill._

The reminder soured her mood a bit.

_I still have yet to see anything else from those goddamned weasels. Maybe I should…_

Her stomach flip-flopped and doubled over itself as she shook the thoughts from her head.

She hasn’t turned on her phone—not the burner she bought in Scotland, but _her phone_ —on since Scribe had returned it to her. No doubt, they’ve scrubbed every contact off of it, as well as any chance of connecting with anyone on the outside except for associates within Chimera Dynamics. She was also convinced that they had it bugged and wired up to record any calls, texts, or emails she sent from it—regardless of whether she was contacting Scribe and Scribble or someone else.

_I don’t trust them, but…those two assholes might be my one shot at keeping up with the outside world. If I leave…that big, gaping dickhole Thrax might make good on his word and kill everyone back home and everyone here and then me for good measure._

Lupin scowled into her empty flagon, gripping the handle so tightly, she crushed it enough to leave her imprints in the metal. Whiplash paused to look up at her with a trill of concern. She glanced over, reading his anxious expression and felt guilty for a moment. She slowly pried her fingers off the handle and sighed, stood, and crossed over to his side. She sat beside him, curling her tail close to her side.

“Sorry. I’m…a little high strung right now.”

Whiplash sniffed at her ear, as though telling her to go on.

“I’m…I don’t know. I don’t like how things are going right now. It doesn’t have anything to do with how things are working with us—I’m starting to like working with you.”

The Night Fury huffed and looked at her in a way that could have been translated as, ‘ _Well duh. I’m awesome!’_

In spite of herself, Lupin offered a wane smile, patting his neck reassuringly.

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing to do with you, I promise. It’s…my family. My friends.” She paused, gathering her words. “I was…I was a Marine. I know you don’t know what that is, but let me tell ya, Marines are badasses. The cream of the crop. And I ain’t no slump. I mean, I had an advantage over my peers, being a nonhuman entity and all, but still.”

Whiplash thrummed back, dipped his head to snatch up a fish and paused to look at her. He sniffled, signaling for her to go on. Over the last few weeks, her muddled memory has cleared itself up. She could actually remember the names of those in her squad, her unit, her command and what she had been working on and for how long before she left.

“I…I was at war. I was deployed far from home, and I was out there for almost a year and…I was engaged. I was…how do I explain this? I…had a mate. Kind of. We were…going to stay that way, for a long time. But…he died while I was overseas before we got married, in an accident.” Lupin hesitated, sucking in a breath and found that she couldn’t let it back out. It hurt to try and breath past the rocky lump that had lodged itself in her throat, to push past the pain welling up in her chest or focus through the uneasy twisting of her stomach. Her eyes burned and itched, and she fought to keep the tears from spilling. She didn’t trust herself to speak for nearly a whole minute. Whiplash grew very quiet and still in the meantime, pressing in closer to lend his wordless support. She leaned against him, feeling utterly exhausted down to her bones just thinking about it all.

When she finally trusted herself to speak, her voice was hoarse and her mouth dry.

“His name was James Foster. I loved him so much and now I…I don’t know how to handle this shit right now. He’d probably…laugh at me and tell me to stop and think about things for a second. To not get so worked up.”

She could barely find it in her to smile again. When she finally did, it was bittersweet as she recalled his face and how his eyes would crinkle just a little bit at the corners, and how he’d get dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. Or how he’d scrape up his deadlocks to pull them clear of his face while he clucked his tongue at her and told her to cool her jets and just relax. That things would be okay, she just had to believe that. He was the soothing balm to her fiery temper and he knew just what to say to help her see things clearly.

She was having troubles trying to do that on her own now. She eventually got there, but he helped alleviate the stress, the worrying, the long way round in figuring things out.

He had been so smart and funny and charming, and so damned patient with her, she often couldn’t quite believe he had ever been really interested in someone—in some _thing_ —like her. He could have picked anyone and he chose her. Now a part of her was regretting letting him in. If she had pushed him away like everyone else, if she hadn’t let him get under her skin the way he had…he would probably still be alive today.

Her hands shook as she ran them through her hair, while her ears pressed flush against her head.  

“...I was going home to go pay my respects and attend his funeral, but…I was killed. Or fake-killed before that happened. Those people that were here the other week, they wanted to take me away from everyone. That’s why I’m here now. They stole me from my family, my friends, my job. They threatened everyone I cared for. I have to work with them now. I’m not happy. You can see that clearly enough. But I hope if I get this shit out of the way, maybe I can go home.”

As much as she wanted to believe that, Lupin wasn’t convinced, even when she said it out loud. Some conniving, treacherous little part of her kept whispering away that she’d never be free of Chimera Dynamics, that they’d keep hold of her and never let go.

She knew she was a valuable asset, as much as she hated admitting it. A mutant with pyrokinetic abilities who doubled as a nigh-immortal and damn-near invincible werewolf who also happened to be fireproof was not easy to come by.

She shivered when Whiplash rumbled softly, tilting his head closer toward her. She wrapped an arm under his jaw, leaning her head against his cheek.

“I wish he was here. He’d know what to say and James…James would have loved you, Whiplash. I know he would have.” She whispered softly, her throat pinching tightly once more. “I know…I can be hard to work with sometimes, but…thanks. For giving my stubborn ass a chance. I dunno what you saw in me or why or how when you did, so thank you.”

The Night Fury warbled again, curling his tail around the two of them, enclosing them in a tight circle. She pressed in closer against the dragon’s side, breathing in deep and relishing in the comfort he provided. They sat there for several minutes in silence as Lupin struggled to reign in the tumultuous storm inside her. She wanted to cry, to scream, to break things, to simply just stop everything and do nothing.

She wanted closure more than anything. Guarantees that those she loved were still alive. That they wouldn’t be hurt. She wanted someone familiar to be here with her, so she wouldn’t be so alone, but she knew that wasn’t a feasible possibility. In the end, it was better if she were alone in this, instead of dragging anyone else down with her.

Everything she wanted wasn’t going to happen, not anytime soon and the quicker she recognized that, the better.

 _Suck it up, Marine,_ she told herself as she fought back the urge to cry. _You wouldn’t take this shit lying down before you met James, and you sure as shit won’t do it now that he’s gone. Suck it the fuck up and just get shit done. One minute, one hour, one day at a time, Sunday-to-Sunday. You can do this. Now get up and do your damned job._

Reluctance held her tightly but she shook it all off, slowly but surely, as she pushed herself to her feet. She loathed breaking the moment she and Whiplash were sharing. Nonetheless, she was more concerned with wasting the day doing nothing. Doing nothing meant nothing got done and they had too much to do to waste it with her wallowing in self-pity. Without her even saying a word, Whiplash quickly snapped up the rest of his meal before shooting up to his paws.

He watched her sharply with his wild green eyes as his wings twitched and shivered in anticipation. She forced herself to smile as she patted his cheek.

“Let’s go find Valka and see what we can do to help with that big dragon, huh? What do you say?”

Whiplash snorted, wiggling with excitement. She found her smile softening with genuine affection.

“All right then, let’s go.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

“What is he doing?”

Valka turned at the sound of Lupin’s voice, finding the young woman having joined her and Cloudjumper on the cliff side, overlooking the precipice out toward the sea. In the distance, the great Bewilderbeast was churning the sea along the coastline, breathing out great fathoms of ice with every spray of water that rose up to greet him. Cloudjumper was swooping in and out of the way, graceful and nimble in flight, his roars distant and tinny to her ears. Offhandedly, Valka could only imagine how loud it must be to Lupin, as she glanced at the werewolf’s twitching ears.

She turned back toward the scene before them, motioning with a tip of her crook and a relieved smile on her face.

“I’ve managed a breakthrough. We’ll need a safe haven for him, and he can’t walk about the island as he is.”

“So…he’s building himself a Bat Cave?”

“I don’t believe I understand what a bat cave has anything to do with what he is doing, Lupin.”

“Right. Sorry. It’s an inside joke.” Lupin scratched the back of her head, smiling sheepishly, but her gaze was still admittedly distracted by the great dragon beyond. “He’s…building himself a nest of some kind, right?”

“Yes. Very good,” Valka nodded, turning back to watch the progress the Bewilderbeast and Cloudjumper alike were making. Lupin lapsed into silence as well, observing curiously. “I don’t believe he’s ever had a safe haven in his life.”

“Do you do this often? Rehabilitating dragons, I mean.”

“Yes. I’ve rescued as many I could from trappers and Vikings alike, as often as I could, wherever and whenever I had the chance. When I began living with them, and learning more about them, the more I came to understand just how wrong we were about them as a culture, as a species. I came to love them the more I learned.” Valka’s smile briefly faltered as the bitterness began to seep in as she added, “But I was not always there in time to help sooner. Some suffered from debilitating wounds, never to recover. Others I couldn’t save at all.”

Her green gaze lingered on the ice-breathing behemoth beyond.

“I hope to save him. As much as my heart hurts, knowing he was the one who killed the last king I have grown so fond of over the last twenty years…I can’t turn my back on him. It wasn’t his fault. Drago broke him. I hope I can be the one that can fix him, even if it’s just by a little bit. He didn’t deserve the suffering he endured, and the most I can offer is to alleviate that.”

She sensed Lupin having come closer by her side, with Whiplash flanking her other side. The Night Fury canted his head to the side, sniffing into the cool, briny sea breeze blowing past them. Valka chuckled quietly, gently tracing a hand over his head. He immediately turned into the touch with an affectionate croon, flashing a toothless smile her way.

“What can I do to help?”

Valka shifted her attention to the werewolf, somewhat surprised, but mostly grateful at the offer. For the past week, Lupin has been keeping her distance, watching from afar while continuing her flying lessons alone. She had been strangely closed off as of late, but Valka was glad for her reaching back out again. Lupin crossed her arms over her chest, a frown painted on her face when she noticed Valka’s stare.

“I refuse to let him hurt you or anyone else if I can help it. If I end up alone with no one to talk to on this island that can talk back, I might just go crazy. I will get very choked up if that happens.”

She laughed at Lupin, she couldn’t help it, especially when the werewolf smiled thinly response at first.

“Be patient with him. Be kind and gentle. He grew old under a heavy hand and savage violence was used to control him. He needs compassion to guide him now, more than even he knows. He’ll learn in time that there is more to his life than the brutality he was raised into.”

The werewolf considered her carefully and without betraying what thoughts were romping throughout her head in any outward fashion. Lupin turned her focus on that of the Bewilderbeast, as though trying to decide something. Valka waited, and her patience was paid off in the end when Lupin nodded.

“Okay,” she said at last, sucking in a breath, nice and slow. “How do I do that?”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

He was confused. Curious, but confused.

The little human with the Stormcutter companion has not issued an order of attack or retaliation against him. Instead, she came to him in peace.

He barely understood why, but it stilled the rage that churned just beneath the surface, but it was mainly in part to his fatigue. It overwhelmed him completely and for days, he was unable to gather enough energy to sway his tail, never mind lift himself up onto the shores he had once attacked so wantonly.

From the time the sun rose to when the sun fell, she was there, tending to this wound or that, bringing him food…

He was baffled by the suspicious behavior the female displayed toward him. He was still expecting a heavy hand, a fearsome bellow, or to feel the sting of a weapon lashing against his hide.

Yet she did none of those things.

Where his former master had little patience, this little human seemed to have an endless reservoir within her.

He still flinched with every movement she made, with every step she took around him, with every glance sent his way or every smile that was flashed.

When his master bared his teeth, it was never a good thing, either for him or anyone else.

The Stormcutter was just as baffling. He hummed away at him, offering reassurances in passing, but it did little to dissuade his doubts. Humans were clever, tricky beasts. Dragons could be as well, and yet…

And yet he still allowed the doubts to worm their way into his head.

He was to be the king of this flock that now barely acknowledges his presence, his existence. The dark king that conquered over the soft and weaker Alpha that this human woman had vouched over. Now he was disgraced, his master gone, and he was left beside himself. Without his master, he was unsure of how to act, what to do.

His strength returned with each passing day. The tiny human fed him and tended to his injuries, the very same that had been inflicted upon him by the very dragons that now resided here.

He was lost without the commands of his master.

The Stormcutter has offered encouragement and comfort, but it is not the approval he sought after, nor is it the one he wanted it from. Still, he finds it oddly endearing, and over the last few days, it has become a strange kind of comfort.

He has not been starved or beaten or screamed at or thrust into some petty conflict. He was still deciding whether or not that was an improvement or some complicated form of deceit thought up by the little human. For now…he would reserve judgement.

Today, he was doing something new and different and strange.

He was creating something rather than destroying something.

The Stormcutter was helping.

Sort of.

He swooped in and out of the way, chattering and bellowing and yowling as he dipped and turned and glided this way and that, directing him where to blast his icy breath, without getting caught up in the way.

The sea churned all around him as he twisted about, the water turning frothy before solidifying into frozen chunks. The mist that swirled in the air only added to the veil he was creating. He could hear the plaintive cries of the dragon flock, flying hither and thither to and from the human village, whether it was to explore and play or to skim the waters in search of food. They paid him little mind and he them.

He had almost been convinced this was going to become some kind of trap, concocted just for him, and he would be fool enough to finish this nest while still inside. But the Stormcutter showed him tricks that thrilled him, passages that would let him leave when he wished, or come back when he wanted. He has never created something that didn’t include the destruction of something else.

It was new.

New was not always good, but this…this was…good. The Stormcutter relayed to him the creation he was building would be a haven for him, and for any dragon who wished to nest down within its confines. No traps, no nets. They would willingly come and go as they pleased, without trappers or cages or humans to hold them with their iron teeth.

This was a change he never would have imagined before now. Change has not always proven to come easily to him, but it was much needed, he decided in that moment, as he continued to build a home rather than destroy.

He decided that for now, this change was a good thing.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Another week has passed and the great Bewilderbeast has continued his work on creating a new sanctuary crafted from ice. It will never replace the prodigious glacial homestead that Valka had lived in for over twenty years, but it would provide a safe haven for the dragons. It would also keep the temptation of them flying beyond Berk’s range at bay for a time.

Valka, in the interim, split her time between continuing Lupin’s flying lessons and working with the Bewilderbeast. Although, with the latter, she could not seem to spend much time with the dragon in person. Cloudjumper would have to switch with Valka in the middle of things, to avoid exhausting the Bewilderbeast’s reserves in dealing with people. It wasn’t difficult to see just how easily the dragon grew anxious and twitchy when forced beyond his capacity. He was especially stressed when Whiplash or any of the other Night Furies lingered too long in his presence.

“He’s been tolerant so far, and that is more than I would have expected of him, given the damage he suffered from Toothless the last time they crossed paths.” Valka told her as the week neared its end, and it was difficult to not hear the admiration colouring her tone.

“You mean…the missing tusk?”

“Yes. He threatened Hiccup and he challenged Drago’s Bewilderbeast to protect him,” Valka nodded, her green eyes flashing as she recalled the memory. “Dragons will go to extraordinary lengths at times to protect those they love, human or dragon. But Hiccup and Toothless…they have an especially strong bond. They’re as close as I am to Cloudjumper, and they haven’t spent nearly as much time together as we have.”

Valka’s smile turned wry at that, and while pride shone brightly in her eyes, they also grew hazy and distant, wistfully sad. Lupin watched the older woman for a few seconds before politely averting her gaze, feeling more than a smidgeon awkward. She waited for a few extra moments to pass before clearing her throat.

“Okay, so we’ve established he’s not happy around Night Furies. Or people, but he can tolerate them a little more than the former. But you’ve also managed to get him to start making some kind of nest.”

“Ah, yes. Yes, I have.” Valka said with a nod, returning back to the present. She paused, looking to Lupin. “I’m curious. Weeks ago, when we last saw the twins…you said that they would be providing provisions for us, at your request. I’ve yet to see them fulfill that promise. Has something changed?”

Lupin avoided meeting Valka’s gaze.

Everything that she had taken from Scotland had been, for the most part, left alone. She had managed to set up a sort of home base in one of the barns close to Valka’s home, and was finding herself spending more time there at night. She couldn’t sleep half the time, couldn’t bring herself to do so. Either she woke up in blind terror from nightmares and soaked in cold sweat or she’d wake up from the other fucking dreams, crying and exhausted.

She didn’t have the heart to tell Valka about James, even after the older woman’s confession about Stoick’s death. She has had the time to process, to mourn, to accept his loss, to move on.

Lupin was still processing and it was too painful to even acknowledge.  

It was easier to slip away most nights or mornings, to work on getting things up and running, to preoccupy herself with other things until she was too mentally exhausted to think. It was easier to pretend things were fine until she was too tired and couldn’t remember why she was sad in the first place.

It was easier to forget than to remember.

Even if her phone had been scrubbed of all contacts or personal touches, she was still afraid of turning it on. She knew she’d expect pictures of her and James displayed in the background. She knew she’d be tempted to find any scrap of information left of him, or even her family, left in the contents of the phone.

Burner phones and what was inside of them were easier to not get attached to. They could be discarded just as easily as they were bought.

 _Coward,_ she thought, realizing that Valka was still waiting on an answer. _Just get it over with. Contact those stupid bastards. Get whatever we might need._

She breathed in deep, giving Valka a nod.

“Right. I haven’t really been focusing on that. I’ll get in touch with them. How about we make a list of things we need, and we’ll send up the requisition.”

“We won’t necessarily need much. As distasteful as the suggestion might be, we can hold off certain provisions if we scavenge from the neighboring homes.” Valka offered, her smile thin and fleeting. “Given the circumstances, I’m sure the owners won’t mind our intrusion. And I’ll be sure to have whatever we borrow replaced when things have returned to normal.”

“Right,” Lupin bobbed her a little, more out of habit than agreement. “We should probably still go over things that we can’t find or won’t have.”

  **OoOoOoOoOoO**

“ _Miss Ferus! This is certainly a surprise. I had been expecting you to call us much sooner._ _To what do I owe the honour of you finally picking up the phone and giving us a ring? This isn’t a social call, that much I can discern._ ”

Barely ten seconds in, and Lupin’s nerves were already frayed. She balled up her free hand into a fist, clenched it nice and tight, slowly released it as she forced herself to relax.

“We need…stuff.”

“ _Oh, that certainly is descriptive. ‘Stuff’. And what, pray tell, kind of ‘stuff’ do you and Miss Haddock require?_ ”

_Thirty seconds in a locked room with you, me, and my fists, and the last one standing gets to leave without legal repercussions._

Lupin was careful to not heave an impatient sigh into the phone. She wasn’t in the mood to be playing ‘carrot and the stick’ games if she showed too much annoyance to get on with things. Instead, she shifted focus to the sheet of paper on the workbench and unfolded it, eyes tracing over each item listed mentally at first.

“I have a list,” she started, trying to not speak through clenched teeth.

She hated this… _dependency_. At least in the military, she had some form of independence half the time when it came to requisitions. Sure, there was always red tape in getting things shipped overseas, and okay, there were backorders and delays in shipments even in the states, but still.

It wasn’t half as bad as admitting that she needed shit and these assholes could get her that shit.

The Marines she worked with weren’t half as smug when she came to them with a requisition for vehicle repair or replacement parts. It was business as usual, with a good dose of humour and shooting the shit as usual thrown into the mix. They were friends, to an extent. They could talk smack, relax, gaff off for a short while.

Scribe was not her friend. He was not even an acquaintance. He was a means to an end…even if he was perhaps the only one she could trust, even by a small iota, to not rat her ass out to the head honcho of Chimera Dynamics.

…For now.

“ _I’m listening,_ ” Scribe continued, his earlier jovial tone mellowing greatly. It surprised her, but only briefly. She allowed a few extra moments to pass before she began reading off from the list. Scribe would interject here and there, to let her know the feasibility of the requisition, before politely letting her continue.

When she finished, she set aside the paperwork, and was momentarily distracted when Whiplash came to her side, snuffling and crooning for her attention. Gently, she waved him down with a soft whisper that she was almost done. He warbled back, head canting to the side in confusion, but he relaxed nonetheless.

“I’m still waitin’ on the other things you ‘promised’ the last time y’all were here, and I’m getting antsier by the day the longer we go when we don’t see anything.”

“ _It has been two weeks,_ ” Scribe replied, regret lining his voice. He uttered a sigh shortly after. Lupin frowned, her ears twitching. Was it just her or did he sound…drained? Usually, he was bouncing off the walls with sardonic joy, but there was no upbeat tenor in his voice today. He sounded just as ready to get off the phone as she, and drop into bed directly after.

“ _Remind me again what it was that we had agreed upon, before our departure the other day, I’ve regrettably forgotten all of what was talked about at the moment._ ”

Lupin blinked, reluctant to continue, because in that moment, she forgot herself.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She blurted out before she could even think to filter her words and just about nearly regretted it.

“ _Xerxes is what happened_ ,” Scribe replied, and there was a slight bite to his words, a warning for her to not continue pursuing the line of questioning. She, predictably, ignored all that.

“Yeah, I think I need more than that from you, because you’re the only one I’m talkin’ to in that fucked up joint about this shit. Because if the buck gets passed on and let’s say, that asshole Thrax takes over this little song and dance we’re doing right now, I guarantee you’ll never hear from us again. What in the hell is wrong with you?”

_In for a penny, in for a pound. Might as well find out now rather than later._

There was an eerie moment of silence and tension on the other end of the line. Lupin shifted the phone and hit the speaker button, setting the clear device down on the workbench. The call information display lit up the air above the phone, the projected light bright. Whiplash snorted in surprise at her side, staring with wide eyes. He propped himself up on the workbench, batting a paw at the projection, only for the light to fizzle and distort on contact.

He chirruped in plain confusion when it returned to normal as he moved his paw out of the way. Lupin nonchalantly bumped him off the workbench.

“Stop that,” she hissed quietly to the Night Fury. He warbled back in protest. “Stop that. I’m almost done.”

“ _Miss Ferus…_ ”

“I’m here,” she replied without missing a beat.

“ _I believe it may be better if we spoke in person, rather than on the phone. You’ll gain a better understanding to how things are proceeding if my brother and I showed you, rather than us simply relaying the information like this._ ”

For a moment, Lupin almost opened her mouth to protest, but she stopped herself just as quickly, realizing the context of his words: It wasn’t safe to talk now.

Do they have to worry about being bugged in their own workplaces?

It was suddenly seeming very likely.

“ _I’ll arrange a transport for the items you requested. My brother and I will oversee the operation and we can further negotiate any more requisitions that are beyond the usual scope of things. We also have a few other matters to discuss, such as the fate of Miss Haddock, the island of Berk, and its draconic inhabitants._ ”

Lupin was beginning to better understand the edginess to his voice, and the hidden desperation he was trying so hard to hide from any other listeners except for her.

_He’s worried. Something’s wrong._

For once, she didn’t want to purposefully be an asshole just for shits and giggles. Something was really wrong and she had more to worry about than just herself at this point in time.

“…fine. When should I expect y’all to get here?”

“ _How does tomorrow afternoon sound?_ ”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**


	8. Bad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Hahaha—no. I do not, nor will I ever, own any media showcased in this piece of fanfiction. They all belong to their respective creators and owners. The only thing I (barely) own is this piece are the written works and the original characters within it.
> 
> Warnings: There will be cursing, violence, mild nudity, blood, gore, and a few other minor things under the rainbow with this fic.

**Chapter Eight:  
Bad**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

_“Today is gonna be a, uh, a less bad day. I can feel it. Sometimes I wake up and I just know that everything is going to be... less bad.”_  
**-Ally, “ _Ally McBeal_ ”**  


**OoOoOoOoOoO**

She couldn’t sleep that night.

It wasn’t that unusual. Lupin was used to ending up staying awake most, if not the entire, night.

For days on end.

By the time dawn came around, she was more focused on whatever project she had immersed herself in than on the passage of time. Most mornings she would return to the Haddock residence, to alleviate worrying Valka, but this morning, she was surprised by Valka instead.

“So this is where you are most nights.”

Lupin wished she could say she had been startled by the older woman’s appearance. Unfortunately, her ears weren’t for decoration. Although, she would admit that she had been more distracted, working away to make adjustments on Whiplash’s saddle. The tricks that Valka had showed her to working the leather had been learned by Hiccup.

She turned at the sound of Valka’s voice, ears twitching atop her head as she regarded the other woman. Valka, for the moment, lingered by the doorway, teetering on the decision of whether to remain where she was or to press further inside. Lupin paused in her work, sheepishly turning to face the other woman.

“Um…yeah.”

So much for her idea that she’s been keeping her sleepless nights a secret from Valka…

Valka looked worried, not bothering to hide her concern.

“Do you even sleep?”

“I sometimes catch a few hours.”

 _Every other day,_ Lupin silently added to herself. Werewolves, she knew, could go for much longer periods of time without sleep than humans before the negative symptoms began to catch up. _I just don’t want to wake up screaming anymore. I don’t want to wake up feeling like I’m in pain all over before realizing it was a nightmare and not the real deal._ _I’m so tired of being forced to remember things I’d much rather forget._

She was also just so damned tired of being awake and uncertain of her standing and out of control of her life just to go to sleep and being in a constant state of terror. She wasn’t ready to share all of that quite yet, and she wasn’t sure she ever would be.

Valka looked appropriately unconvinced at Lupin’s answer, but seemed to decide to not press the issue.

Instead, she finally sauntered into the barn, coming around to check on the progress of the saddle. After a while of silence, she asked, “When will the twins be here, again?”

“Should be here this afternoon,” Lupin replied.

Valka considered this briefly. “We should prepare for their arrival then. I don’t want the Bewilderbeast—”

“Rusty.”

“Beg pardon?” Valka remarked, her brow furrowing as she regarded Lupin curiously.

“Rusty. I…may have named the big guy over the last few days.” She shrugged, smiling awkwardly. “I think he should have a name, if he never had one to begin with. To commemorate his new lease on life. I dunno. I just thought it’d be a good idea.”

Valka considered her for a very long time, her face morphing into bewilderment before it broke off into soft amusement.

“Rusty,” she repeated with a nod of approval. “Of course. We’ll have to make sure he isn’t scared off or worse, attacks them when they come. I assume they may arrive by ship or in their metal dragon?”

“Metal dragon…oh. You mean the gunship.” She sighed. “Yeah. Okay. I guess we should get him prepped.” She paused, thoughtful. “How much more of the nest does he have left to work on?”

“Quite a bit,” Valka admitted. “They can only expel so much ice at once, and the sanctuary I once resided in took weeks to build and years to shape up to the size it was. Or so I imagine. I wasn’t there when it first began being built. It was already there when I was brought to it, and its proportions were much larger than the nest we’re currently working on. It won’t be as large, but it will serve a purpose for the time being.”

Lupin hummed, thinking about the options before an idea struck her. “You mentioned a while ago that Bewilderbeasts can stay underwater for long periods of time. Do you think we could have him go under into the deep waters around the island for the duration of the meeting?”

Valka considered the idea. “I suppose we could. It would certainly alleviate any issues we may have. Yes, I don’t see why not.” She smiled in approval. “If you’re not terribly busy, perhaps we can start preparations now.”

“I can do with a break from this,” Lupin admitted, glancing at the saddle. “I…think I need to step back and tackle this from another angle, at another time.”

“Having troubles,” Valka inquired with a wry smile as she turned back toward the barn entrance. Lupin followed after her.

“Some. I’ve never had to design or cobble together a saddle before. This is all new to me.”

“I’ll see if I can’t lend a hand later, if you promise to try and get more sleep and to stop sneaking out in the middle of the night to work.”

Lupin winced. “I’m…not even sure how to answer that.”

Valka chuckled. “Just do me a favour and try. That’s all I ask.”

“Painting me into a corner here, but I guess I can try.”

“Thank you. Now, let’s try to get things settled before they arrive.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Rusty was surprisingly compliant in disappearing beneath the deeper waters surrounding Berk. Not even five minutes after the crest of his head slipped under the deep blue waves, did the familiar sight of the Crow gunship come barreling into view on the horizon, the buzz saw hum of its rotors heard even from the great distance it was at.

Valka kept wringing her hands along the grip of her shepherd’s crook, lips pursed thinly, and her shoulders set and tight. Cloudjumper mirrored her in his own way, tension lining his body, his yellow eyes hyper focused on the approaching gunship with a soft yet deep hiss from within his throat. The varying dragons around the island had also turned their focus on the machine that was coming to invade their territory with equal disdain. Whiplash remained glued to Lupin’s side, teeth out and bared as the gunship circled twice over the village before lowering itself in landing.

The two women and their dragons made their way through the winding paths to meet with the crew and the twins. The machinery stank of fuel and lubricant and grease. It was a smell Lupin found she missed and her fingers twitched in longing to pick apart the gunship and then put it back together again.

Scribe and Scribble hopped out the side of the gunship, while the backend began to lower into a ramp. Crewmembers were already scuttling out, arms burdened with crates and boxes as they began to deliver the payload.

As usual, the twins were dressed in bespoke suits, looking so out of place in the Viking village they had just landed in. Lupin bristled when she and Valka weren’t greeted with the usual witty smile they often sported. Instead, they looked ready to drop. They both had heavy bags under their glazed-over eyes, their faces were gaunt and pale, and was it just her, or did their suits almost seem a bit baggier than usual on their frames?

Valka motioned for all them to follow her and they did so, back the way they had come. Instead of heading for her residence, she chose another at random, ushering them inside after she propped the door open. Cloudjumper took post beside the door, while Whiplash trailed inside. He paused before entering, exchanging a look with Cloudjumper. The Stormcutter sniffed pointedly, blinking one eye and then the other at the Night Fury before inclining his crested head in a nod. Whiplash snorted, jerking his into a nod, then traipsed into the household. It was cramped yet cozy within. Valka was already getting the hearth going, deft hands stoking embers and coaxing them to life.

The twins wordlessly collapsed at the heavy oak table, both of them closing their eyes and swaying in their seats, looking ready to fall over. Lupin quietly helped Valka set a kettle over the fire and to scrounge for food, deciding to give them a moment’s respite before hounding them for answers.

When the kettle was heated, the tea leaves found, and the food placed on the table, only then did the twins react. They opened their eyes, looking to Valka and then Lupin blearily, clutching at their canes as though their lives depended upon it. Scribble reached for a bowl that was laden with berries and nuts, although he mostly rolled the nut he took between his thumb and forefinger rather than eat it.

“So, you actually made it,” Lupin started off. “And here I thought you were just fucking with us.”

“We wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing,” Scribble muttered derisively, casting a plaintive glare her way, although it was very halfhearted.

“Our men are delivering what you’ve requested as we speak, as you no doubt saw. We also took the liberty of adding a few items that you may not have thought of…just in case.”

“Like what?”

“I’m sure you’ll appreciate them once you see. I’d rather not ruin it,” Scribe continued with a tired smile. Scribble didn’t mirror his brother’s enthusiasm. Valka chose that moment to interrupt, gently offering each of them a cup of tea. The twins readily accepted, while Lupin declined. She waited, feeling her impatience mounting up quicker than usual.

Whiplash seemed to sense this and shuffled closer to her, laying his broad skull on her leg. She froze, distracted, but turned her attention to him for a few seconds, scratching along the underside of his jaw. He warbled gratefully, wild green eyes sliding shut in content.

“He likes you,” Scribe observed with faint approval. “That’s good. We’re glad one of them does. We’re glad that they could have a better home here than in one of our labs.”

The way he had said that, it didn’t sit well with Lupin. It was as though he had more to say and just barely caught himself in time to stop from revealing too much. She wanted to ask what he meant by that, but thought better on it at the last second.

“You mentioned you had information for us last night when she contacted you. Would you care to share what that was? Especially since you had to have us wait,” Valka interjected as she sat down, her hands wrapped around the steaming cup. She studied the two men carefully, scrutinizing them like she would a problem she was still figuring out and was very close to fixing. Lupin’s seen that look on her face before.

Scribe fell silent and exchanged a glance with his twin brother, and for a moment, unspoken understanding seemed to pass between them. They stared at one another and then looked between Valka and Lupin.

“Yes, you’re right. This is not a social visit,” Scribe conceded.

“It has to do with Xerxes and where you all stand at this point in time.” Scribble added, his voice grim.

“We’ve been in negotiations with him for the last several weeks, ever since we last saw one another and the…incident…Thrax had instigated. He was not happy to hear what had occurred and has taken proper measurements to ensure it would not happen again, after he had Thrax disciplined.”

“Should have fired his ass. Or you know, staged his death. But for realsies,” Lupin muttered bitterly as she scowled at the two men. Scribble scowled back, while Scribe politely coughed behind his fist.

“Yes, well, that isn’t an option. Not in Xerxes eyes. Just as he sees you as a valuable asset, he too sees the value in keeping Thrax around, although not in the same lofty position he had once held.”

“What, exactly, did he do with your people?” Valka pressed curiously.

“He _was_ the head of security and all that entailed,” Scribble replied. “He handled the protection detail of our company’s assets, the safety of our buildings—especially our main headquarters in New York City—as well as the higher ups, such as Xerxes or our executives or even our scientists. At the moment, however, he’s been reassigned for the time being and put on probation until further notice.”

“And what is it that you do?”

“Besides recruiting people to their deaths?” Lupin groused, earning a reproachful look from Valka.

“Not all those we recruit die. Some…like Thrax…they stay with Chimera Dynamics for quite some time. Unfortunately, there are those who do not last long within the company’s walls, as I’ve mentioned to Miss Ferus beforehand.”

“And what do they contribute?”

“Their powers. Why else would we go out of our way to search for these particular individuals?”

“Powers?” Valka sat up a little straighter, interest lighting up her eyes as she stared between the twins and Lupin. Scribe and Scribble, in return, stared between Valka and Lupin. For a moment, their exhaustion was forgotten, and genuine surprise was painted on their faces.

“You…you mean you haven’t told her?”

“Told me what?”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare,” Lupin warned with a growl, stabbing her index finger in the air as she pointed threateningly at the twins. 

“Lupin, what are they talking about?” Valka asked more stringently, her voice climbing an octave higher than normal.

“You can’t keep it from her for very long, Miss Ferus, you might as well tell her yourself.”

“You fucking bastards. I didn’t want to tell her anything!” She snarled at Scribe and Scribble, leaping to her feet with a thunderous growl in her chest as she glowered.

“Lupin!”

The werewolf jumped, startled, fixating her gaze on the Viking woman sitting adjacent to her, watching her worriedly. Guilt and shame wormed its way into her chest and began to settle there with all the grace of prickly thorn bush.

“What are they talking about?”

She hesitated, opened her mouth to speak, closed it, and clenched her jaw. She glanced at the two men sitting across from her and snarled quietly. It petered out rapidly when she realized there wasn’t much she could do to get out of this. It took all her self-control and more to keep herself from storming out of there in that very moment. It took another solid minute to calm herself down internally before she trusted herself to speak again.

“I…I haven’t been completely honest with you, Valka. I’m…you know that I’m not completely human, obviously. But there’s more to it than what you see. It’s…what you _can’t_ see that I’ve kept from you.” She started off slowly, averting her gaze to stare at the grain of wood on the table in front of her. She traced over the pattern a several times over with her eyes before she continued. “I was born different. I can…control and summon fire at will. I’m also fireproof. Nothing can burn me.”

 _Except for silver,_ she thought with a bitter grimace as she rubbed her fingertips together, feeling the faint marks of mismatched scars on the pads pressing together. She lifted her gaze, deliberately ignoring the three watching her as she focused on the blazing hearth. Without effort, the fire shivered violently at her behest. An ember spat away from the hearth, flying into the air and taking shape of a miniature Night Fury in midair. The fire-dragon flapped its tiny wings determinedly several times then set to gliding toward Lupin.

Whiplash’s attention locked onto the miniature dragon and lurched to his feet, curiousity winning him over with ease. He tried to bat at it, but the fire-dragon merely swooped out of reach. Lupin held out her hand with the palm facing up to let the fiery creature land. It pranced across her hand when it did, shaking its fiery little body before settling to look up at her with yellow eyes.

She could feel all three watching her. Whiplash leaned in closer to her hand with wide, curious eyes to gape.

Lupin twirled her hand, willing the fiery Night Fury’s shape to dissolve into ragged tongues of flames that curled around her hand lovingly. It took on the shape of a Monstrous Nightmare next, swirling around her hand and wrist, jaws gaping open in a silent roar. Another twirl of her hand and it changed into a wolf. The fire-wolf threw back its head in a silent howl. A fourth twirl, and the fire twisted into the shape of a butterfly. The butterfly left her hand and fluttered about above their heads, little sparks trailing behind it with every flap of its wings.

Then, just as suddenly as it had formed its shape, it burst into a shower of embers. They twinkled and shimmered, then died just as quickly without fanfare.

Valka stared above them for several lingering seconds, her green eyes wide, her mouth gaping open in wonder. Lupin avoided her gaze when the older woman turned to look at her, the back of her throat tasting like bile. _Don’t look at me. Don’t look at me._

“You kept this from me? Why would you do such a thing? This is a gift!”

“I wouldn’t call it that, “Lupin muttered darkly as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, flinching when Whiplash’s snout came into contact with her hand. He retreated a fraction, sniffed once, then leaned in close again. She hesitated before letting him touch her again. “And I would appreciate it if you didn’t either.”

“But Lupin—”

“Valka…please don’t. I’m not a fan of what I can do and I’d rather we move on.”

She shot another parting glare at the twins, but they didn’t look any more satisfied than how she felt. She returned her attentions back to the Night Fury quietly vying for her. She heard Valka shift in her seat, but the woman remained where she was.

Lupin hated what she could do. All it was, in her eyes, was a destructive force that couldn’t be tamed, not truly, and it only ever needed the smallest spark to whip itself into a wildfire. Her temper was a trigger and she had to fight it tooth and nail to keep it from igniting. James could so easily pacify that wildness, calm her down in the wink of an eye before any real damage could be caused. But now, her safety net was gone and she had to learn all over again how to do it herself.

 _I gave him too much and now I don’t have enough for myself,_ she thought with a grimace. _Stupid. You’re such a stupid fucking child for doing that._

Scribble politely coughed. Or perhaps it was Scribe. She wasn’t paying much attention at that point. At the clearing of the throat, Lupin looked up at the twins, frowning.

“Let’s get this over with. What is it that you wanted to tell us?” She said in a pressing tone, curling her hand into a tight fist at her side. Whiplash crooned worriedly, nudging at her knuckles.

“Yes…yes, of course.” Scribe nodded, and for a moment, Lupin almost wanted to believe he was regretting what had just transpired. The moment passed, however, and she was back to hating him and his twin brother Scribble for shoving her between a rock and a hard place with Valka present. She could have denied showing the older woman her abilities, but that would have put too much strain on them both. Scribe and Scribble didn’t have to live here. She and Valka did.

“Things are going to be changing. I know I’ve already spoken to you before, about them, and how they would be affecting the dynamics of this island.”

“You mean the strange expansions of land adding themselves to the boundary of Berk,” Valka provided. The twins nodded in unison.

“Yes, exactly. But these are minute in comparison with what’s to come.”

“Let me guess. You’re about to tell us ‘what’s to come’.”

“How astute of you,” Scribble grumbled, his tone sarcastic and biting.

“You’d better check yourself before you wreck yourself, pal, I’m not in the goddamned mood.” Lupin growled back, locking gazes with Scribble. He peeled back his lips in quiet defiance. Scribe looked helplessly on between the two of them.

“Are you ever in a good mood, or are you always in such a prickly little bit—”

“That is _enough_ ,” Valka barked, looking between the three of them. Lupin ducked her gaze, suddenly feeling like a scolded child as her ears folded slowly against her head. “You should be ashamed of yourself, baiting her like that. And you. I expected better from you, Lupin.”

She allowed a passing of silence to settle over them all. Without looking up, Lupin muttered very softly, “Sorry, Valka.”

From the other two, she heard them shift in their seats, muttering much the same to the older woman. Whiplash growled softly, punctuating the air with the noise the longer the tension drew itself out. Valka allowed an extra few seconds to pass before she settled again, folding her hands in front of her on the table, keeping her sharp green gaze locked on the twins.

“Now. Let’s get on with this. I’m anxious enough as it is. What changes are we to be expecting on Berk?”

Scribe sucked on his teeth briefly before nodding. “Of course. Again…my apologies, Miss Haddock. Scribble can be…brash.”

“Don’t speak about me like I’m not here. I hate that.”

“Hush. Now, these changes are going to be implemented fairly soon. We don’t have a say in when or why or how or even vetoing their progress. We are simply fed the information and expected to trickle it down.”

“Passing the buck. Wow, it must be super easy saying your hands are tied and you don’t get to make the decisions.”

“We _don’t_ ,” Scribble interjected with a glower, although she figured it was not aimed at her, but rather at someone who wasn’t there at all. Lupin had an idea as to whom it was he wished to direct his sour attitude at. Scribe sighed wearily.

“What you’re to expect are more than superficial changes to the geography of Berk. It will change, and it will slowly become more than Berk. It will become something else. I can’t say what, because we don’t know how. What we do know is that there will be others coming soon. Miss Haddock, her island, her dragons—they are only the beginning.”

“When?” Valka pressed, her countenance slowly morphing to that of apprehension. The twins exchanged another look that suddenly became unreadable. Lupin’s tail bristled, the fur standing on end and a chill running up her spine.

“We…can’t give an exact timeline, but…you should expect arrivals within the week.”

Valka paled. Another growl rumbled deep within Lupin’s chest, a sound so guttural that no human could possibly hope to replicate the noise. All three looked at her, startled, while Whiplash only added to the cacophony with a growl of his own.

“You waste our time giving us this series of bullshit answers, and you expect us to just _go_ with it? How about some good news, like oh, I don’t know…how the _fuck_ we’re going to send anyone back home, where they belong? Are your guys ever going to work on that solution at all?”

Scribe and Scribble’s dark eyes seemed to darken over just a little bit more at her foreboding words.

“We’ve already told you before, Miss Ferus…Xerxes has no interests in reversing this, not anytime soon—”

“Then get me the material and I’ll figure it out!”

“You _must_ be joking,” Scribble huffed, and he actually laughed. “You must be. _You_? What can _you_ do? I hope that perhaps you have some innate and recently discovered ability in ripping holes in this universe into the ones parallel to our own because unless you can do it, I don’t see how giving you classified material from Chimera Dynamics is going to help in any way!”

Lupin felt her cheeks reddening at that. Christ, what an idiot she was, saying that. What could she do, other than froth angrily at the mouth and spew nonsense about fixing things she couldn’t possibly even understand in the first place?

Scribble wheezed out the last of his laughs, although Scribe remained stony-faced, his gaze distant. A dim light began to arise in his dark eyes and he turned to his twin brother.

“Scribble…that might not be farfetched. Do you remember the facility? The Silent Sparrow one we recently acquired.”

Lupin felt her mouth taste sour at the word ‘acquired’. Not built. Not created. _Acquired_.

“Silent Sparrow…ah.” Scribble’s face darkened. “We can’t give her that.”

“Why not? It’s an interdimensional portal—ready for transporting others, it would just need tweaking and adjusting, to fit the needs she requires. She’s an intelligent enough woman to work everything else out, a child could do it—”

“She is a _mechanic_ —a veritable grease monkey with a wrench and a penchant for stealing cars and starting bar fights and-and a hair-trigger temper! Do you think we can trust her with such delicate, advanced tech to watch over, never mind _tamper_ with?”

“You know, the ‘grease monkey with a wrench’ is sitting right here. And I can hear you.” Lupin grouched at the arguing men, pointing at her oversized ears for good measure. She caught Valka smiling from the corner of her eye, small and winsome and fleeting. Lupin clenched a fist at her side again, swallowing back down another biting insult she had ready to loose. Instead, she continued with, “If you give me the material, I’ll study it. Give me a technical manual, and I’ll fix it. I’m not a complete moron. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to fix things in record time the way I have been before I was taken out by your fake hitman. I was the best at my job. That’s not an exaggeration.”

“Expecting you to know how to work this device, let alone fix it, is like expecting you to study advanced thermonuclear physics and become an expert overnight.” Scribble spat back with a scowl that nearly belied his fatigue. “You have no experience. You have no background. You have _nothing_ that qualifies you as able and ready to handle what we’re working with, let alone put eyes on the classified materials for anything in Chimera Dynamics. ”

He held her gaze steadily, tension lining his jaw as he silently challenged her to defy him. Lupin, not wanting to disappoint, decided to meet him head on.

“And I’m to expect that you two are experts on these matters? You’re as much in the dark as I am, and I’ll bet you’ve never had to dirty your hands in the depths of something’s inner mechanics to figure out how and why and what makes it tick, tock, and overall work.”

A hush fell over them all and it was so poignant that the only sounds that could be heard was Whiplash’s breathing and the crackle of the fire in the hearth. Lupin of course could hear more than all of that, but that really wasn’t the point.

“Even if we agreed to this harebrained scheme of yours…Xerxes would never authorize it.” Scribble said quietly, his dark eyes smoldering angrily.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to judge, dear brother,” Scribe interrupted, holding up a hand to stop him from continuing. “He has no use for the Silent Sparrow project. Not when he’s already got his pet project underway. If we convinced him that it would be better suited for other purposes, perhaps he’d be willing to part with it. He’d have no need to sacrifice an entire team dedicated to finally sending back those who come through our gateways. We could delegate the task to Miss Ferus. It would give her another purpose in staying within reach, as well as an alternative to overtaxing her with keeping an eye on incoming individuals.”

Scribble met his brother’s gaze, looking ready to argue, but stopped almost as suddenly as he nearly began. Resignation slowly dawned on his face and all the fight drained from his frame. Scribe smiled thinly in return, nodded, and turned back to Lupin and Valka, lacing his fingers together atop the table. He looked rather pleased. Tired, but pleased.

“If this comes to pass…your task may become simpler. You’ll have less to look after. You’ll be contributing to the return of the displaced. Your role as a guardian will be exercised at a more efficient expense. Xerxes may have little concern with them, but we do. There are plenty of likeminded individuals within the company that have the same concerns as us, but they are few and far in between. Their voices are drowned out, but I think with you as an outside perspective looking in, Xerxes may take notice. He might take the proper steps to fixing this mess instead of letting it be swept under the rug and left to fester and rot in the dark, so to speak.”

“Should we expect an answer regarding this soon?” Valka interrupted. Scribe considered her carefully before he sighed.

“I can’t say, Miss Haddock, but we’ll push it up the ranks on the agenda.”

“So sometime between never and not fucking likely,” Lupin scoffed. Scribe gave her a censorious look, frowning.

“If you still think we’re against you on this matter, Miss Ferus, then you truly are a fool for letting your bias, hatred, and rage blind you. We would not be here, trying to find solutions for the calamity this world is not ready to be faced with. If the public were to gain word about these activities, it would bring chaos. Countries the world over would be flocking this island, trying to snare any dragons they could get their hands on. Especially ones as powerful as these Night Furies.” Scribe inclined his head towards Whiplash. The Night Fury, in return, looked up in Scribe’s direction and snarled quietly.

Valka’s expression turned thunderous and the hand around her cooling mug of tea tightened.

“I will not let that happen. Not while I still draw breathe.”

“Noble, but misguided, Miss Haddock. The world has changed greatly since your time, and believe me when I say this: the armed forces of many countries would have you and the dragons at their mercy, if they so wished it.” Scribe paused, glancing at Lupin pointedly. “This is the part whether you decide to tell me if I’m wrong or not, Miss Ferus, seeing as you have personal experience behind that front.”

Valka looked between Lupin and the twins, her lips pressed tightly together. Lupin sucked a breath between clenched teeth, regret and bitter resignation making her stomach churn unpleasantly. She exhaled slowly.

“He’s…not entirely wrong, Valka,” Lupin bitterly conceded. “As much as I’d hate to agree with him, he is right. Somewhat. I served for a small contingent in the armed forces that’s considered one of the best in my country. Some say the world, but I think that’s overreaching in some instances. We’re just a bunch of assholes who were given guns and told to go shoot downrange.”

Scribble suppressed a snort, and Scribe offered another thin smile.

“How succinctly put, Miss Ferus. But we’ve strayed off topic, and I believe we should wrap this meeting up.” He cleared his throat. “We’ll put the offer of having the Silent Sparrow project relocated to Berk, so you are readily able to transport any displaced entities back to where they belong.”

“What is Silent Sparrow, if you don’t mind my asking? You keep mentioning it and what it alludes to, what but exactly is it?”

Scribble groaned. “We’re never going to leave here, are we?”

“Patience, brother. And to answer your question, Miss Haddock, it is a device that can open a gateway to another world. Not unlike the Bifrost from Asgard, guarded by Heimdall. Or better yet, Yggdrasil, the great tree that connects itself between the Nine Worlds. Of course, Silent Sparrow is not a tree, far from it, but its overall function is the same: to go from one world to another. At least…that’s what we have come to understand about it. The original creators were most likely trying to induct instant transportation from one place to another, but instead connected to another universe.”

Valka nodded, understanding lighting up in her eyes. Lupin felt a surge of guilt roil through her when she realized in that moment Valka has been so patient with all this talk, even when she most likely didn’t understand all of what was going on. _I should have brought her in the loop or thought of getting her up to speed sooner._

She didn’t have long to linger on that guilt, as her attentions were drawn away from her idle thoughts. The twins pushed themselves up to their feet. To Lupin, it seemed like such a tremendous effort just to remain standing. She glanced over at Valka, who offered a nod as she stood as well. Lupin joined her.

 “So, what does this Silent Sparrow thing look like? Is this gonna be some type of _Star Trek_ ship teleport pad or is it gonna end up looking like something out of _Stargate_?”

“Similar to the _Stargate_ reference, actually. It’s going to take some time to pitch the idea, of course, and some more to tweak its function to that of which we need it for, and then the remainder of it will have to rest on your shoulders once it makes it here.” Scribe leveled her with a steady gaze and once more, he and Scribble looked so gaunt with fatigue, it was almost a miracle either of them were able to stay on their feet. “If you’re truly committed to helping whoever comes along, to sending them back, we need to know if you’re with us. We can’t keep up with the petty fights, the suspicion, the way you’re lunging at our throats. We’re on your side, can’t you see that?”

There was a desperate earnestness to his voice, a fervent plea for her to listen and heed him. Lupin pursed her lips, shifting her gaze to meet Valka’s. The older woman frowned, clearly teetering on the decision of whether or not to accept such a statement herself. Lupin turned back to them, finding it difficult to uncurl the balled up fists at her side as she stared the two men down.

“I don’t trust your boss. I certainly don’t trust your asshole associate,” she started off carefully. “For now, I’ll…try to curb myself. But if I find something smellin’ fishy or out of line, just remember this: I can kill people with my brain. And I don’t need to be in the same room as you to make it happen. Savvy?”

Scribble grimaced at her, looking sorely unimpressed, although Scribe gave her a curt nod. He didn’t appear any more amused than his brother.

“We’ll keep it in mind, but we’ll take what we can get at this point with you, won’t we, Scribble?”

Scribble grunted. Scribe sighed.

“You are a difficult person to handle, Miss Ferus. I would almost pity the men and women of your previous unit, although I believe that it would be misplaced and misguided to do so. You trusted them and they you. You don’t trust us, understandably.” He smiled tiredly. “We hope to change that in the future. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I believe your things should be offloaded by now and it’s high time we made our getaway. Miss Haddock, Miss Ferus, always a pleasure. Thank you for your time.”

With another curt nod, the two men made their way out, quietly closing the door behind them as they went. Whiplash stared after them with a soft hiss until the moment they were out of sight before whipping around to charge Lupin and Valka. Lupin, in return, rubbed along his jawline as he rested his chin on her chest.

“I hate this.”

“I know you do,” Valka said gently. “Don’t think that I’m of a different mind on this whole venture. I don’t like it any more than you do. But for now, I’m glad you’re willing to be open with them. The more information we can glean from them, the better.”

“Knowledge is half the battle,” Lupin conceded. Valka smiled, nodding to the werewolf.

“Exactly. Now, why don’t we go see what it is they’ve brought to us in that metal dragon of theirs and call Rusty back?”

“Sounds like a plan, ma’am.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Valka is totally the ‘Mom Friend’. She’s also a mom. My point still stands. She’ll love ya, but she won’t hesitate to tell you what’s what if you step out of line.


	9. Complicated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Hahaha—no. I do not, nor will I ever, own any media showcased in this piece of fanfiction. They all belong to their respective creators and owners. The only thing I (barely) own is this piece are the written works and the original characters within it.
> 
> Warnings: There will be cursing, violence, mild nudity, blood, gore, and a few other minor things under the rainbow with this fic.

**Chapter Nine:  
Complicated**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

_“I was born more than two centuries ago, and my wife is prisoner in some otherworldly realm. I’m no stranger to complications.”  
_**-Ichabod Crane, “ _Sleepy Hollow_ ”**  
  
**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Three days after Scribe and Scribble had delivered their payload to the island of Berk, they were visited once more with deliveries in tow by gunship. Several gunships, in fact. Valka watched the horizon as the great mechanical beasts came charging forward toward the island in the early dawn sky with a tightness in her chest and a foreboding feeling nestled heavily in her stomach like an iron ball. They landed on a hilltop not far from the village, but not quite within its boundaries, either.

Lupin wasn’t far in coming to watch and without needing a word to pass between them, they silently agreed to go and investigate. Most of the dragons in the area had fled already, hissing and squealing and squawking at the newly arrived intruders, watching with suspicious wide yellow eyes and heavy growls in their chests. Valka calmed many of them on their way, but many more were still unconvinced that this wasn’t a threat.

Valka had half a mind to go and check on each of them, especially those she knew who would be more prone to attack if provoked. Each dragon had its trigger, and most of it was noise or movement based and more still that wasn’t obvious to the untrained eye. She didn’t fancy seeing these men fried to a crisp—not yet, anyway.

They reached the hill after traversing the many curved paths through Berk’s homesteads, and found themselves confronted by a man, who was most definitely not one of the twins.

His hair was slicked over and tousled to one side, and strangely enough, it was dyed a rather bright and extravagant blue. Even his brows were given the same painstaking details as his hair. He was dressed similarly to the twins, in a form-fitting pair of slacks and jacket, all dark slate in colour. When he smiled, he had dimples in his narrow cheeks. Valka was almost reminded of Scribe, the more amicable of the twins.

The man waved at them cheerfully, and as they drew closer, Valka could see his eyes were a bright and mirthful green, and beside his right eye, two beauty marks sat. His gaze was just as warm as his smile. Genuine and affable, not like the curt politeness she sensed from Scribe and Scribble.

At her side, Lupin was rather…stiff. Valka could read her almost as well as a dragon now these days. It probably helped that the younger woman reacted like how most of them would, and not like most people. She was wary and suspicious, and there was a cautious grace to her movements now as they drew closer. Her tail twitched in agitated, slow arcs behind her while her ears remained pricked up, alert. Her eyes watched and waited to catch something she didn’t like.

“Oh good! I thought I would have had to come looking for you!”

The man, who was frighteningly slim and gangly-looking up close, came barreling closer with that chipper smile still in place. He immediately turned to Valka first and snatched up her hand, giving it a few vigorous pumps, still grinning.

“Man, oh man, I’m so excited to be here, really I am! When I found out about the Lazaraus Project, I just _had_ to see it for myself—and holy hell, you’re—it’s you! The dragon lady! I read the specs on you, and you, Valka, are one badass lady. I swear, you’re my hero right now.”

Valka quickly extracted herself as soon as she was able, unsure of what to make of the gangly, blue-haired man. She spared a glance at Lupin, who bristled when he turned his attention on her. He almost snatched up her hand as well, but stopped a split second before he did when the werewolf growled loudly in warning. He laughed sheepishly, slowly withdrawing from her personal space.

“Oh, right. Right. You—you don’t like being touched. Sorry, I didn’t realize—well, I did, but I just forgot—you’re not the touchy-feely type. My apologies. Okay, so you’re both here, that’s great!”

“Who the hell are you?”

The blue-haired man stared in an open dumbfounded manner at Lupin, his body becoming stiff and still like a statue in lieu of his excitement at the question. Just as quickly, seconds later, he snapped back into animated action, his face splitting into another earnest grin while his eyes were shining with excitement.

“Oh, man, I am an _idiot_ , I am _so sorry_ —I am Copper. Copper Sterling, at your service.”

Copper Sterling proceeded to bow at the waist at the both of them, straightened, and fixed his coat.

“I hate wearing this suit. I really do. I wish they would have let me come in more casual wear, but they find it as about as ‘eccentric’ as my hair. I like dying it, so sorry I prefer expressing myself rather than, well, ya know, conforming to some bullshit archaic stereotype of what a person _should_ look like to get their job done. My hair doesn’t get in the way of doing my job, and neither would my clothes! Ya know?”

“You have about three seconds to explain what y’all are doing here in short, simple words before I start hitting you.”

Valka cast a reproachful look toward Lupin, but she did have to quietly agree—Copper Sterling was not making much sense. It wasn’t reassuring her what his business might be the longer he took to explaining it.

Copper stared at Lupin, clearly seeing she wasn’t joking around and took a step back to put distance between the two of them. He coughed politely into his fist, looking appropriately abashed and fearful of the growling werewolf.

“Um…right, right, right. Business as usual. Man, you don’t waste any time. And honestly, I don’t hit back nearly as hard as you so yeah, there’s that.”

“You Chimera Dynamics dipshits took away six months from me. I would waste your time, but I’d be wasting even more of mine at the same time. Get to the point.”

“Whoa, that decision _totally_ wasn’t me, and if it were up to me, I wouldn’t have gone that route. I heard what happened, and man, lemme tell you…that was pretty shitty. Pardon my language.” He cleared his throat. “But I’m not here to talk semantics and morality. You’re right about me being here for a reason. I got orders from Scribe and Scribble and it’s this: I’m building you a house!”

Valka and Lupin alike stared at Copper in open perplexity. For several grueling seconds, there wasn’t nothing but the sound of the gunships powering down all around them. Copper’s smile slowly fell, and he tugged nervously at his tie and collared shirt.

“Um…I uh…you—you ladies are staring quite a bit. Was it…was it something I said?”

“No, it’s something you did. Can you turn back into a chicken again? That was a neat trick,” Lupin growled out. Copper replied with an anxious laugh.

“Jokes. Funny. You’re a real funny lady. Really.”

“Stop calling me a lady. Does it look like I wear a skirt and heels?”

“Man, you’re wound up tight.”

The werewolf, much to Valka’s relief, seemed to bite back another one of her insults and instead turned her focus back to the subject on hand.

“You said you wanted to build a house. How? And why?”

Valka nodded, staring over Copper once more, feeling more skeptical by the moment. He didn’t seem to have an ounce of meat, never mind any muscle, on his frame. He was tall and gangly and awkward looking, although he was rather handsome, if a little effeminate in the face.

His green eyes flashed merrily at the both of them, mischievous and wicked and amused. Valka braced herself, knowing something unexpected was hiding within this young man, and she wasn’t entirely sure it was a good thing yet. Copper cracked his hands, and on his knuckles, Valka caught a brief glimpse of writing on his skin before he flipped them back around and out of sight.

“Once these guys unload all the raw materials, I’ll show ya what I’m made of.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re going to take your shirt off. I don’t need any more nightmares haunting me.”

Copper deflated, his boisterous attitude shot down as he stared at Lupin. Valka smirked and chuckled quietly as she glanced over at her shorter companion.

“You just totally shot my confidence down, like, ten notches. You weren’t the sunniest kid in class, were you?”

“I don’t get paid to be nice. I get paid for being a guardian, and being an asshole to people I don’t like or trust comes with the territory. Now get on with the show, or I’ll show you my foot up your ass.”

“Geez, all right already. Don’t get your panties in a wad…”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

The offloading of the materials brought in by the gunships took the better part of three hours. There was quite a lot of it, and the more that came, the more questions that cropped up between Valka and Lupin.

There was an electric tension in the air that refused to dissipate in those hours. Even the crew of the gunships seemed to sense it, and it was apparent that they were trying to work as quickly as they could so that they could leave in one piece.

Copper, however…Copper didn’t seem to give a wit about it all. Or he was merely oblivious. He kept wandering off to go poke his nose into corners where he shouldn’t, gleeful at discovering this dragon or that. Valka would herd him away and send the dragons scurrying off if she could manage it. Lupin would simply haul him by the scruff of his suit without a word and throw him back up on the hill the gunships were perched on. He took it all in stride, which Valka found to be somewhat endearing, if a little annoying.

Copper reminded Valka of a dragon hatchling, robustly inquisitive and ready to take on the world and explore every nook and cranny he could get himself into. He was a very bright and cheery young man—a strangely enigmatic difference of force from that of Scribe and Scribble. They were polite, if curt, and stuck to business. It was hard to not like Copper or to not feel eased by his relaxed nature. She worried about Lupin’s constant suspicions, however.

The werewolf was, simply put, guarded and distrustful of everyone that came to Berk bearing the crest of Chimera Dynamics. As charming as Copper was, Valka decided that she’d trust Lupin’s intuition over a stranger she only just met. Even the most charismatic appearance could hide a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Allowing herself to be fooled could be a death sentence.

When the gunships began to depart, it was almost a relief and the miasma of tension finally, slowly began to lift, until all but one was left behind.

After the last gunship left, Copper began to go through all the containers and pallets of materials, humming a soft little tune and flashing a grin all the while. Lupin was especially attentive to his movements at this point, and it was almost funny seeing Whiplash following Copper’s actions the same as her. Spending her short time on Berk, Valka has seen the bonds the Vikings had crafted between themselves and their dragons—some needed to work on theirs, while others were so tightly woven together, it was difficult to discern them apart as two separate beings.

She could see that if Lupin kept herself true to Whiplash, that they could have that very relationship. Valka would be very sad in the end to see them all separated when it was time for them to part ways.

Another half hour passed before Copper made his way toward them, holding a piece of wood. It was beautiful, coloured deep red like a good wine and it was polished to a bright shiny sheen along its surface.

“This is gonna be your flooring. Pretty sweet, right? Comes from Africa, and it’s called padauk. Very durable, termite and insect resistant, and it’s pretty resilient against water damage too. Solid stuff. The lighter orange variations didn’t look as good, I think this looks good. This vermillion colour, I mean.”

“And I care, why?”

“Well, _duh_. Look at where you live. On an island, right off the coast and up against sea brine and wind and storms. Gonna need resilient stuff in case of flooding, especially since you’re getting a basement and all.”

“I feel I should repeat this, since you’ve seem to have forgotten I can hit hard: get to the point.”

“Criminy, you’re antsy. All right, all right…sheesh.” Copper pouted, clapping the wood into his other hand. Valka watched as he drummed his fingers against it, catching glimpses of the writings on his hands all over again. His drumming stopped as quickly as it started and he held out the plank of wood out before him, grinning broadly at the two of them. “Demonstration time, ladies! Now, step back and watch!”

Valka looked away for only a moment, if only to glance over at Lupin, but whatever question she had—verbal or not—was swept away from her mind when a flash of light snapped up her attention. She turned back, tense as the air around Copper cracked like thunder and lit him up like lightning. It was only for a few seconds, but an eternity seemed to pass between them in those short moments.

When the light and the electrified energy faded, Copper was no longer holding a piece of wooden plank. He was holding a miniature wooden carving of a dragon, perfectly burnished and sculpted. Copper’s eyes flew open and he whooped when he glanced at his creation.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about, lookit this little guy! Isn’t that cool?”

“It’s a Monstrous Nightmare,” Valka declared, her tone guarded yet impressed. Copper met her gaze and grinned. Beside her, Whiplash and Lupin alike looked wholly unimpressed.

“No, it’s not,” she remarked in a clipped tone. Without missing a beat, she twirled a finger and poof, a puff of flame coated itself onto the wooden figurine. Copper dropped it with a yelp quicker than Valka could blink. She smirked wickedly. “ _Now_ it’s a Monstrous Nightmare.”

Valka had to fight with every fiber of her being to keep from smiling. Copper groaned as he watched the flames rapidly eat away at the little wooden figure.

“Why’d ya have to go and ruin this for me? I just showed you something cool! Do you even _know_ what I can _do_?”

“Something, something, something. Dark Side. Something, something. The Force.”

The blue-haired man snorted, making a show of rolling his eyes. Valka wasn’t sure what either of those things were, but gathering from the privately shared joke, Lupin and Copper obviously knew.

“No. That is not—c’mon, man, give me a break. I’m trying to be your friend here—”

“You are not nor will you ever be my friend. You are nothing more than a little lapdog bitch for Chimera Dynamics, and that is enough to keep me from ever trusting the likes of you assholes. Finish whatever the fuck you were sent to do, and go back to where it is you came from.”

The very air seemed to freeze and turn still all around them at Lupin’s thunderous yet quiet words. There was an absolute finality to her, one that simply said she wouldn’t move from her judgement. Whiplash hissed softly, the noise punctuating her point rather succinctly. Behind them, she heard Cloudjumper shift closer. Valka could feel his presence simply radiating heat and it soothed her, knowing where he was. For most of the morning, he had not come any closer to the hill with all the gunships coming and going, the same as many of the dragons. Incredible volumes of noise wreaked havoc upon their ability to remain upright and even Cloudjumper was no exception. When most of the gunships had left, only then did the Stormcutter and Night Fury alike came skulking up closer to be beside their riders.

Copper himself was at a loss for words, and the energetic light behind his eyes dimmed down considerably. He simply stared at Lupin, quiet and subdued, and at one point even looked to Valka for help. A part of her wanted him gone. The sooner he left, the sooner things would quiet down on the island. So she said nothing. Copper dropped his gaze when he concluded he would receive no assistance from her and turned back to rows of supplies set aside.

“I…I guess I’ll just…do my job and get going.” He said before pausing, then adding as an afterthought, “You might want to clear the area. It’s…going to take quite a lot of room to work.”

He didn’t need to tell Lupin twice. She was already swinging herself up into Whiplash’s saddle. She paused long enough to glance Valka’s way, and the two of them fell quiet.

“Valka…I’m gonna go check on Rusty. He probably ain’t been all right with all this aircraft activity going on. Okay?”

Valka gave pause, brief in her thoughts on the matter, nodded, and turned toward Cloudjumper. The Stormcutter thrummed softly as he presented a clear path up to his backside. She quickly scaled up at the invitation and settled herself down.

“I’ll come with. He’s not as used to you and Whiplash as he is to me and Cloudjumper.”

Before she and Cloudjumper leapt into the air to follow Lupin and Whiplash, she cast one last look over toward Copper. He was staring up at the sky where the werewolf and Night Fury had been, a wistful and awestruck expression on his face. When he looked to Valka, he stared with wide eyes, bright and curious and searching for answers.

Valka would not hesitate to admit that, as charming as Copper Sterling was, she was unsettled by his fathomless curiousity and energy. She was more perplexed by his strange abilities, of which he had not offered an explanation nor did she feel the urge to pry into. Instead she only offered a nod and then she was airborne with Cloudjumper.

It was the last she saw of Copper that day, before she too left.

 

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

“I wasn’t expecting you to ever be as harsh as you were today with that young man.”

“Don’t tell me he charmed you into thinking he could ever be a reliable ally.”

“Not exactly.” Valka hesitated. “But it doesn’t hurt that he was likable.”

Lupin snorted, making a show of rolling her mismatched eyes. “I don’t like any of them.”

“You don’t seem to like anyone.”

“I hate everyone equally.”

“That’s a bit on the strong side.” Valka offered a thin smile. “You don’t hate me, do you?”

“I…hate you less than all those other people.”

“That’s not reassuring, Lupin.”

“Ugh. Fine. I like you. There. I said it. Don’t make me say it again. And I don’t hate everyone, not really. I just hate… _them_.”

Them. Chimera Dynamics and anyone associated with them. She just barely tolerated Scribe and Scribble. Copper was a new face they might have to get used to, if they dealt with him about as regularly as the twins.

“Copper built you a home,” she pointed out quietly. “In a fraction of the time it would have taken us to do on our own, need I remind you.”

In the back of her head, she was still trying to work out the “how”. She wanted to say magic, to say that he had a gift from the gods, but something else deeper still denied that possibility. Lupin didn’t call her powers a gift and while her tone insinuated she thought of them as a curse, she had explained it was a kind of mutation.

Perhaps Copper was a mutant like Lupin.

“I…never asked for a home.” Lupin crossed her arms over her chest but it also looked more like she was trying to shield herself from Valka, to shut the older woman out. “It’s not like I ever had a home growing up. I don’t even care about stuff like that.”

“What do you mean by that?”

The werewolf hesitated, her shoulders curling up defensively, her ears pressing tighter to her head.

“I….my family, they… _we_ moved around a lot, because of me. I never stayed in one house or apartment for more than a year, not until middle or high school. They didn’t want people knowing about…what I can do. What I was. Not until I could control it. People hate what I am. They’re beyond cruel, they’re downright sociopathic. They would have killed me if it came down to it, and they probably would have gotten away with it. Mutants aren’t treated right. They’re practically second-class citizens. My family feared that kind of stuff, almost as much as they feared me. So we stayed in a lot of places that…never felt like home. In a lot of neighborhoods that weren’t safe because we couldn’t afford someplace nice or even decent half the time.”

Control. Lupin spat that word out like it was a contemptuous and venomous thing to keep in her mouth. Valka knew how Lupin seemed to hate pity directed toward her, but she couldn’t help but feel the sympathy blooming. The way the young woman had made it sound, it was as though her parents held a disdain for her gift, and while fire was dangerous, yes…it wasn’t as though Lupin had a choice in the matter.

A dragon had little choice in the matter of being gifted with its wings or teeth or claws or spines.

It simply was. It was simply born that way.

Lupin lifted her gaze long enough to stare around the walls that surrounded them now. The home that Copper had somehow built was beautiful and solid. The floors were made of the same rich dark hardwood that Copper had made the dragon figurine out of, and there was plenty of room for many people. Valka, however, had a feeling that Lupin would not be entertaining guests in a manner befitting a Viking. Not willingly, anyway.

It also felt so open and empty, in spite of the illusion of warmth it exuded. The furnishings were sparse and much too clean, unused, unwelcome. It would take time to make the place feel like a real home—something she doubted Lupin would know how to do on her own, especially given her own admission. It was all too clear in how she stared around as though she didn’t know what to do with herself, or she didn’t quite believe this place was hers to live in.

It was just another place to lay her head down in at the end of the day.

Valka struggled for a prolonged minute, the words tying themselves into such tightly woven knots, she was unsure if she’d ever be able to speak again. Being a surrogate mother to many dragon hatchlings had been one thing and an easy one after years of practice. Easing herself into the role of mother for her son had been surprisingly easier still. Learning to readjust to human society had been quite another thing, a difficult thing. Strangers, she still sometimes jumped at not unlike a dragon being startled by something loud and new and strange. Astrid had been a blessing, and from the moment Valka began to spend more time with her future daughter-in-law, the more she came to find just how marvelous the young Viking was, both for Berk and for Hiccup.

Now she was learning how to cope with a young woman who, not only wasn’t from her own century or culture, but was also a mixture of wild and civilized. Valka could sense a kinship in Lupin’s own inability to sit still in one place for long, the need to explore, to work with her hands, to _do_ _something_ other than sit about. She had a likeness with the dragons, of using her animal intuitiveness and senses to scope out the feel of a situation rather than relying on pure faith in the good of someone—something that Valka was relearning about herself.

A part of her felt protective of the young woman, who in spite of her definitively wolfish nature, was all too much like a lost wild dragon in Valka’s eyes.

Valka eventually found the words she wanted, however simply they were, knowing that they were all she needed.

“You don’t have to stay here, you know,” Valka found herself saying and she meant it. A home wasn’t a home, if one didn’t feel it was. It was probably why Lupin slept out in a cold barn, instead under the roof of an actual house, in a bed, close to the hearth. There was nothing wrong with that, of course. Plenty of Vikings themselves did it, especially after a hearty night of drinking and comradery. But somehow, it felt more appropriate to associate it with her own people, and not of someone from another. “You could stay where you are. Or if you’d prefer, you will always have an open space for you in my home.”

Lupin didn’t respond right away. She stepped away from Valka to examine the floorings, the rafters, the sparse furnishings, the open space. It was all so well done, and masterfully crafted. Valka was still struggling to believe the same gangly, blue-haired man who had made a tiny wooden figure of a dragon had done all this—and all without lifting a hand with a tool in his grasp.

“No,” the werewolf finally said, exuding a heavy sigh as she hiked up her shoulders. “No, I need….I think I need to learn to stick with one place. I probably shouldn’t be sticking myself in a barn and I don’t like imposing on your home. I know you don’t think much on it, but I do. And you’d probably feel better if I actually stayed inside an actual house, even if it isn’t yours, and slept in an actual bed and not on some hay.”

The werewolf turned to offer Valka a wane, tired smile and it was one Valka returned, if only in reluctance. It was a point she wasn’t willing to argue and deep down, she was glad to hear this from Lupin.

“I can’t find fault in that reasoning. Except for the part where I’m not sure you’ll be willing to stay inside, instead of wandering around back out to the barn.”

“This place has the space I need. And it…I guess I can call it mine, for a time.” Lupin paused. “If I promise to stick to one place, will you stop worrying?”

“Who said I was worrying?”

“Your face. You look a little concerned.”

“I am, but for far more different reasons than what you believe.”

Such as, for instance, just how large the scope these things truly were and the fate of her home and the dragons under her care, including the new addition of Drago’s Bewilderbeast. She found herself wondering just how far this all extended. How long she was going to remain grounded on Berk and when she’d be going home to see what family she had left. So many things that Lupin only had the barest idea of, things that had been spoken in passing between themselves, never in greater detail beyond what’s already been said.

For the time being, however, Valka felt it more appropriate to focus on what was at hand, and what she could physically deal with.

 _One thing at a time,_ she told herself.

Chimera Dynamics was almost like a bogeyman at this point, with few faces she’s come to associate them with, not unlike Drago and his army and dealings of dragon trappers had been.

 _But I knew Drago was a truly corporeal man, an actual threat. I can hardly say the same for this Xerxes fellow. He’s like a ghost. I’ve yet to glimpse him at all. And yet,_ she had to remind herself again, _that is something I can’t face right now. In time, we will, though._

She pushed all thoughts of chasing ghosts aside.

“This is a fine home. It would be a shame if you left it sitting all alone and empty, after all the troubles Copper had gone to creating it for you.”

Lupin’s face soured at the mention of the blue-haired young man but she said nothing. She didn’t have to, not really. Her face said quite enough. Valka clucked her tongue.

“Oh, come now. He wasn’t all bad. Keep him at arm’s length if that’s what you want, aye, but at the very least, pretend to show an interest. You might learn more than they mean for you to if you played along with their humour.”

The werewolf groaned, her ears pressing flatly against her head and ducked her gaze, looking appropriately abashed. Lupin mumbled something that sounded similar to an apology. It would have to do. It would be the most she’d get out of the obstinate young woman. While Lupin wasn’t a Viking, she could make for a passable one with just how rock-headed and temperamental she acted at times. Valka allowed a moment to pass so that the air could clear between them before motioning to the area around them.

“So, why don’t we go take a look around? See what kind of home this place is.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Lupin has massive trust issues. While she does appear willing to be trusting, it’s normally skin deep. Growing up in and watching a society that targets mutant individuals with such bigoted rancor, it’s made trusting people incredibly risky in her books. It takes a lot of time to get past that inner barrier and extend a genuine show of trust to others, and not just a song and dance that is more of an illusion of trust.
> 
> She’s learned growing up to swallow her words down when it comes to intensely private information, especially if it could incriminate her and out her as something different, something strange, something that can paint a target on her back. It’s already happened before.
> 
> That isn’t to say Lupin isn’t capable of opening up. It’s just hard getting past all the layers sometimes.
> 
> Also, Copper is a total fanboy. He is a precious beanpole…or is he? Art has been posted to the blog, check it out! Reference sheet is up for Copper!


	10. Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Hahaha—no. I do not, nor will I ever, own any media showcased in this piece of fanfiction. They all belong to their respective creators and owners. The only thing I (barely) own is this piece are the written works and the original characters within it.
> 
> Warnings: There will be cursing, violence, mild nudity, blood, gore, and a few other minor things under the rainbow with this fic.

**Chapter Ten:  
Change**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

_“Things change. Doesn't mean they get better. You gotta make things better. You can't just keep talking and hoping for the best.”_  
**-Dr. Gregory House, “House M.D.”**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

She couldn’t remember the last time she slept in a bed.

A real bed. Not one that had belonged to too many backsides over too many years. Not one that she had to dig out herself, using the dirt as a mattress and her rifle as a pillow. Not one that has belonged to someone else entirely and one she was only borrowing. Not one that was made of straw and hay and covered in a blanket for extra measure.

It’s been years, she realized as she lay there in the early grey of dawn, the room still dark and still under the hush of the approaching day. She could hear Whiplash softly breathing, long and deep and still very much asleep. And then she realized that she didn’t get very much sleep last night herself. She had tossed and turned, woken up every half hour after she’d finally fallen asleep, after several more hours of lying awake trying to let it come to her.

The bed was perfect by all accounts. It was comfortable and just the right amount of soft and firm all at once, and yet…

And yet, she still couldn’t sleep. It mostly came to her in restless fits. She startled awake more often than she actually dozed. If she were anything less than what she was, she would probably be feeling the lagging of her mind catching up to her, the restless exhaustion weighing her down like anchors—but she had more miles to go before that ever happened. There were some minor perks to being an inhuman monster, after all. Sleep deprivation was simply something that took a long time to catch up to her, and it also allowed her to go a long while without rest.

It made her feel more useful while out on deployment, taking advantage of her sleepless nights. When the others caught their rest and she simply couldn’t sleep, she’d tinker. She’d work. She’d read. She’d watch for enemies. She’d do anything to keep her mind off things, to keep her thoughts off of her nightmares.

Lupin lay in bed, watching as the room lightened from dusky black to charcoal grey to hazy blue. Whiplash continued snoozing, content as he was. He chose to sleep at the edge of the bed, close at hand. She had been tempted more than once throughout the night to slip off the bed and crawl under the Night Fury’s wing and sleep at his side. She was growing more used to the black dragon with every passing day and in spite of herself, she has also grown very fond of him as well. The other Night Furies tolerated her, but Whiplash seemed to have an unusual level of interest and affection when it came to her. She was reminded of the way stray cats would sometimes adopt humans.

Lupin waited longer still until she found she couldn’t stand sitting still any longer and quietly crept out of bed, tiptoed around the dragon, and slipped out the room. The hallway was as quiet and still as the room she had claimed for her own. She waited and listened.

The soft waking chirrups of songbirds in the forest. The sleepy chorus of insects stirring awake. The occasional groan, squeak, squeal, or roar of the dragons that littered Berk proper beyond. It was a peacefulness she hasn’t really stopped to appreciate or think about in the last several weeks. It almost made her want to forget about the crazy that’s become her life.

_I’m on an island filled with dragons that’s host to an ancient Viking village that came from an alternate parallel universe still in the past. The people who made it possible want to me to babysit more displaced victims due to their executive meddling due any day now. How can it possibly get any weirder?_

She paused at that thought and groaned, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes.

_I could have been a normal human before all this and be suddenly stuck with pyrokinesis and lycanthropy. I could have been learning to cope with it instead of what’s happened to me prior to all of this crap._

There was that plus.

She decided for the time being, it was enough, or about as much as she was going to get. Lupin moved on silent paws, navigating her way toward the stairs and down to the kitchen. It was big, bigger than any she had growing up. The fridge and freezer alike were stainless steel and had deep reaches for plenty of storage. The stove and oven were pristine and huge. In the middle of the floor plan was a lengthy kitchen island with cabinets and drawers and hooks where pots and pans dangled. The countertops all across the board were made of a dark obsidian stone, while the cabinets and kitchen island alike were made of the same wood as the flooring. Everything about the place just screamed ‘expensive’ and ‘spared no expense’ when it came to the materials used.

It all felt false in spite of the warmth it was supposed to project.

In time, it might feel more like a home, but at the moment, Lupin only felt like a stranger invading someone else’s abode.

She distracted herself from all that by making herself a cup of coffee.

When she and Valka had done an initial run through of the house, Lupin was more than surprised to find it had running water and working electricity. Only half of the mystery had been solved when they eventually stumbled upon the generators down in the basement right next to the armoury. It was a larger, more powerful version of the miniature one Lupin had taken from Thurso.

It has to be, to run a household this large, she reminded herself as she took that first, life-affirming sip of her morning cup of coffee, savouring the smooth dark taste on her tongue.

She moved along through to the dining room and past the deep rich espresso dining table and its matching set of chairs. Lupin continued on through to the office and library space around the corner. All the built-in shelving were bare of books. The oak desk in the corner was clean and pristine, having known no usage. An upright piano, its finish smooth and darkly painted, sat innocuously beside the window, the cover closed over keys.

Littering most of the free space in the room were boxes and crates and footlockers filled with supplies she had yet to explore inside. It was the only way to keep the clutter and tripping hazards from spreading across the house. After the twins’ delivery almost a week prior and then Copper’s unexpected visit, she was left to carrying everything inside with Valka, including the arrangement of most of the furniture, stocking the kitchen, and making sure everything electric and wet all worked properly. She made a note to dedicate an afternoon, or perhaps an entire day even, to going through all the containers when she had the chance.

Lupin wandered on, doubling back toward the living room across the way, where squashed yet cozy-looking couches and an armchair sat, crowded around a fireplace in the corner. An iridescently clear television screen was mounted on the wall adjacent to the fireplace. Lupin doubted it very much they’d get a signal to even the most local of channels.

 _But, who knows? Maybe I can hook up the wireless settings to it,_ she told herself. Then, at the very least, she could glean something from the outside world. _Then again…they might be monitoring the feed and cut me off at any moment._

The addendum soured her mood. She moved on, exploring the rest of the nooks and crannies, finding it just as bleak and empty and sterile as she would a military barracks room. It was functional, yet completely devoid of any personal touches whatsoever.

 _Take one room and make it your own. Where did I hear that from again?_ Lupin’s ear flicked as she sipped her coffee, turning back to traipse down into the basement. She stopped altogether at the sound of footsteps approaching and instead turned toward the front door. Valka was there just as Lupin opened it. The older woman looked only marginally surprised, but it was the anxious yet determined expression that caught Lupin off guard the most. Any greeting she had died about as quickly as it had cropped up.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think it might be best if you come see for yourself.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

A castle.

It was a fucking castle Valka wanted to show Lupin.

Oh, right, and it was sitting upon a brand new cliff that hadn’t been there the other day.

_A castle on a cliff. How Medieval Times could things possibly it get?_

It was gorgeous in an ancient-landmark-from-afar kind of way, Lupin had to admit. It looked like some of the giant stone blocks had been carved out of the very stone of the cliff itself. It was old. That much was apparent. Decades old, perhaps, and yet…something felt off.

It looked so god awful familiar, yet she couldn’t place it.

There were signs of modernizations, she noted, like light poles and glass windows and a manicured park behind the castle walls. Valka broke away to circle around one way with Cloudjumper and Lupin took the other with Whiplash, diving close around where the sea met the cliffs. The briny waters leapt upwards, frothing with fervor as it sprayed them when they got within range. Whiplash shivered off the cool drops, rumbling softly. There were signs of more glass built right into the cliffs, Lupin noticed in shock. Whiplash banked his wings in and they glided in for a closer look. As they passed, Lupin could see signs of a kind of garden within, dark and quiet and empty, before they were zooming past.

She leaned in and Whiplash pumped his wings in response to climb upwards into the air. They met back up with Valka and Cloudjumper as they hovered above the castle structure. Lupin caught glimpses of clean pathways and lovingly cultivated little bits of shrubbery, trees, and grass patches.

Valka exchanged a troubled look with Lupin that only affirmed her own unease with the werewolf’s.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess that this is one of those changes the twins were talking about.”

“I imagine you’d be right,” Valka agreed, casting another cursory glance over the castle. Lupin did much the same, but even with her eyes, she could tell that there wasn’t much to see. Not from up here. She turned back to Valka.

“I think we should go down, see what we can see. Maybe there’s someone inside.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

As it turned out, there was no one inside, but Lupin’s suspicions of modernizations reaching beyond the superficial were confirmed.

The exterior of the castle appeared, by all intents, a medieval relic. Its innards, however, painted a different story. Restoration cranked up to eleven was what sprang to mind the moment they came across what appeared to be a foyer or great hall of some kind. The room was spacious, open-aired, and teemed with contemporary architecture that meshed with the visual aesthetics of the castle’s original design and structure.

A pristine glass and crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, and modernized light fixtures were bolted to the stone walls. Sliding metal doors separated other rooms, restored tapestries further decorated the walls, antique weaponry and shields were propped everywhere, tasteful rugs were laid out on the floor and the stone flooring was tiled in ways that didn’t quite scream “old-fashioned” in Lupin’s books.

From the way Valka drank in the sight of it all, she was just as puzzled. She took interest in a pair of crossed swords behind a shield mounted on the wall, her lips pursed thinly and green eyes studious. They looked very old indeed, centuries old. Its hilt and pommel were archaic in design yet rustically artful, although it didn’t hold to the smooth design Lupin thought broadswords were supposed to be.

_Thank you Hollywood, for skewing my perspective._

“I don’t recognize this crest.”

Lupin blinked, pulled from her thoughts at Valka’s words. She stared dumbly at the woman.

“What?”

Valka turned to look at Lupin. Before long, her gaze strayed to somewhere behind Lupin. She heard Cloudjumper grunt softly as he stalked closer, the click of his claws ringing clearly in the air. Whiplash warbled softly from across the room, where he was inspecting another curiousity.

“This crest. I don’t recognize it.”

Lupin gazed at the shield and at the crest engraved in its metal hide: a stylized winged serpent of some kind. Perhaps a dragon of some kind?

“Do you generally recognize unknown medieval crests?”

“It wasn’t often, but we Vikings would invade the mainland for supplies when they were scarce altogether in the Archipelago. Especially when we were at odds with the dragons and their raids hit us hard.” Valka smiled thinly. “We would have done more, if we hadn’t been too busy fighting them off. There were others who had more luck in those kinds of endeavors. They weren’t hit as often as Berk seemed to be.”

“Ah. So, like…you…well, not you specifically but your people, you’d go and ransack some poor shmuck’s village and then end up defending your stolen goods from even bigger fire-breathing thieves.”

“Well, when you put it like that, you make it sound worse than it was. And we didn’t always ransack a town. Sometimes, we’d trade with them, if we had the goods to do so.”

“How is stealing from someone a good thing?”

Valka crossed her arms, her head tilting as she regarded Lupin pointedly. “And where, exactly, did you get the coins to trade for all the supplies you took from Thurso?”

Lupin opened her mouth to argue, but then just as promptly, she closed it in sheepish resignation.

“…I have absolutely no answer to that.”

“If that’s so, then we should continue our search.” Valka turned away from the crossed swords and shield, her grip tightening on her shepherd’s crook. It rattled ever so gently as the older woman walked, and Cloudjumper was just as attentive to the noise as Whiplash was. The Night Fury perked at the sound, turning his head to follow Valka with his wide green eyes. Lupin trotted after her, the fur on her tail bristling in apprehension.

Something didn’t feel right, and it mostly stemmed from why the castle seemed so familiar yet she couldn’t place how or why.

She would have remembered visiting or seeing a place like this before, right?

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Lupin wasn’t sure if she should have been worried about Valka or not whilst traipsing about inside a modernized castle. There were moments where she believed it would have been best to suggest the older woman to wait with Cloudjumper in the courtyard while Lupin did the search.

She kept talking herself out of saying anything at all, mainly in part to the fact that Valka was a grown woman. Lupin may need to keep an eye on Valka, but that didn’t mean she had to micromanage her like a child. It would have been incredibly insulting to her, especially considering she had to learn, adapt, and live with dragons for over twenty years. Surely a little culture shock, a glimpse into a world Lupin was raised into, would pass over easily enough for Valka.

She was only proven right by her theory as Valka herself seemed to downplay her own reactions to everything and anything that jumped out to her as new and shocking. From the office spaces to the atrium, Valka kept her opinion mostly to herself, although on occasion they would come across some artifact and she would comment on it.

When they eventually came to an esoteric office space—spacious and with its desk nestled in the corner beside the bay window, opposite of a series of speakers, buttons, and screens—Lupin decided enough was enough. She marched straight for the desk and began to tug at the drawers, going so far as to rip them completely out and let their contents litter the floor.

Valka watched, completely taken aback at first. Eventually she found her voice and asked, “What are you doing?”

“I am snooping. I thought it was quite obvious, with the way I’m tossing everything around.”

“Yes, but for what?”

“I’m…I’m not even sure. A clue, maybe?”

“You believe this place to be from another…another universe.”

“Yep. But here’s the thing…” Lupin came across a locked drawer and she grinned. _Jackpot_. With barely any effort, she gave it a tug and it ripped out with a small screaming protest of wood and metal being torn apart. The drawer was chock full of hanging files and inside of those was paperwork galore. “I feel like I know this place. Like from a half-remembered dream somewhere…”

“That’s impossible. You can’t know of a place you’ve never been.”

“Oh, ye of little faith…I’m sure I can come across _something_ that helps us.”

She began flicking through the folders, looking for something solid until she stopped.

She stared.

Her hands shook, her mouth grew cotton dry, she could hear her heart pounding like the beat of a war drum in her temples.

“No…there ain’t no fucking way…”

“Lupin?”

Valka was barely prepared for the werewolf as she went barreling on past her and out of the office. She kept up with her, if just barely. Out of the castle proper and into the garden park in the courtyard they flew, and right up into one of the tower keeps they ascended.

All the while, the same mantra kept playing over and over and over again in Lupin’s skull, bouncing about off the walls: No fucking way, no fucking way, there is abso-fucking-lutely no fucking way!

The morning sun was feeble yet warm as it spread its warmth down on the world, but all Lupin felt was cold when she came out at the very top of the stone steps at the highest point of the castle. She could see the village of Berk and more if she wanted to enjoy the view and what a view it would have been.

However, she was too busy, too focused, to consider the idea. She took in the sight of the stone statue sitting atop one of the stone blocks facing outboard. It was a hulking behemoth of a gargoyle, the wings curled inward, the tail curled down and around the block it sat upon…

She took a step forward, then she took another. By the third one, she found her voice again, doubt and disbelief still gripping her tight in its vice-like grip.

“There ain’t no fucking way…”

Lupin’s focus broke when she heard the click of a hammer cocking back and all sound came rushing back: the sound of another’s heartbeat, the intake of air, the singing of blood in veins and the heat of another body that most certainly wasn’t a dragon’s or even Valka’s. She could hear the woman still making her trek up the staircase, and she was just about nearing the top.

“Hands up where I can see them.”

The werewolf felt a growl building in her chest and she spared a glance over her shoulder. Yet another round of shock rippled down to her core and she found herself turning around completely to stare at the woman behind her. She was slim and fit, with thick jet black hair, sharp and witty brown eyes, her skin a rich tawny beige. And that sporty red jacket coupled with the black sweater and nineties-style jeans…

How could Lupin have been so damned _blind_ and _stupid_ about this place? It took seeing this woman to remind her what this castle was, and who was staring down at her with a nine millimeter pistol pointed straight at her.

It was Castle Wyvern and the woman was Elisa Maza.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Something was wrong. Valka could sense it about as easily as a dragon could these days, and her age did nothing to deter that. She was as sharp as ever and her intuition was hardly ever wrong. It was simply a fact.

In that moment, her intuition was telling her that something was very wrong. The air felt taut and electrified, like the calm before the storm, or the moment before lightning struck. She could taste it in the air and feel the heat building all around her. Valka adopted a more cautious step to her pace as she continued to make her way up the winding steps that led up to the castle tower. Lupin had been strangely and disturbingly quiet and it didn’t bode well. The way she had ran out of that room after her snooping had chilled Valka. Lupin had gone so very pale, like she had witnessed some apparition confronting her before fleeing. It took every ounce of energy she could muster to keep up with the werewolf, and yet, something else still, something deep down, told her that Lupin was much quicker on her feet than that.

The shock must have gotten to her, she reasoned, although it seemed a very lame excuse.

Perhaps she simply kept her pace just slow enough to allow Valka to follow?

Whatever the case may be, she knew where the younger woman was, but that didn’t ease her worries at all.

It was only confirmed when she heard someone else, a new voice, bark out an order with the precision of a cracking whip. What the words were, Valka couldn’t discern, but the tone was recognizable all the same, and it sounded like a woman of authority.

Valka readied her crook, her grip tightening and her resolve steeled as she padded silently up the last flight. Light spilled across the expanse of an open doorway and Valka glimpsed a sliver of the blue skies before stopping. She had reached the top of the tower. She waited, hearing Lupin’s voice pipe up.

“—you got the wrong idea, man—do you even know where you are?”

“I know that I’m going to get answers sooner or later, and I’d rather not have this end badly. So why don’t we take it nice and easy—”

A sound like thunder shattered the relative silence. It echoed across the cavernous tunnel Valka was concealed within, making her ears ring something fierce. The worst sprang to mind and Valka felt sick. Her heart beat madly within her chest and she surged across the last few feet to the threshold of the doorway before stopping completely in her tracks.

Lupin was fine. She was standing across from a woman bearing a loud red jacket, blue pants, black shirt and bearing some kind of small weapon in her hands. Whatever it was, it was pointed at the woman, who stared coldly between Lupin and Valka’s new arrival. The woman, however, had a brief double take when she laid eyes upon Valka, staring her up and down. Then her shock seemed to settle just as quickly and she regained her composure. She returned her fierce gaze on Lupin, her hands up in the air.

“You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to shoot a cop.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I don’t trust cops, but that don’t mean I want to shoot ‘em, either.” Lupin lifted the weapon and pointed it skyward, looking and sounding completely congenial in her admission. “And you’re definitely a long ways from home, in case you haven’t done a quick situational look-see.”

The werewolf motioned with her freed up hand to around them. The other woman resisted gazing around at first, but eventually cast a quick glance over her shoulder. She seemed to have had it resolved that she would only do one look, but it eventually turned into a gaping, long stare out across the island of Berk.

Or what Berk used to be.

Berk simply wasn’t Berk anymore, even to Valka’s standards.

The woman stepped away, her initial mission forgotten as she turned on her heel to step closer to the stone blocks and stare out across the way. The wind was strong this high up and it teased at her thick hair without mercy.

Valka took advantage of the woman’s distraction, coming to Lupin’s side. The werewolf shrugged at Valka as she made her presence known, quietly telling her that she was all right.

“Who is that?”

Lupin faltered and lapsed into silence. The woman turned around, questions smouldering in her eyes as she regarded werewolf and Viking alike with an intensity that Valka had to honestly admire.

“Where am I? What the hell is going on?”

“You’re on Berk. It’s an island that is a part of the Barbaric Archipelago,” Valka answered smoothly, with a practiced ease that surprised even herself. “It is my home, as well as his.”

The woman canted her head to the side, clearly confused, before noticing where Valka was staring. The woman whirled on her heel, only to come face-to-face with Cloudjumper. The Stormcutter rasped out a warble as his front wing-limbs clung arduously to the stone edifice of the castle walls. He watched the woman as she reeled away with sharp yellow eyes, tilting his crowned head nearly full rotation. Valka hadn’t been expecting Whiplash, but his sudden appearance slinking in to the unaware woman was a welcome addition to her shock. She even caught Lupin sporting a bit of a smirk on her face at the sight.

The Night Fury hissed, showing off his impressive set of teeth, his leathery wings curled into a menacing display as he whipped his tail in agitated arcs. Cloudjumper slinked over to join the Night Fury, a deep rumble building in his barrel chest. The woman huffed out a few breathes, as though trying to force the astonishment out of her body through the action alone.

It was almost disappointing to Valka when Lupin whistled to Whiplash, breaking his concentration. The Night Fury snuffled, his wings dropping, his head raising upwards, his intimidating posture completely and utterly gone as he regarded the werewolf. Valka simply nodded to Cloudjumper and the Stormcutter slithered across to perch himself close to her. The Night Fury did much the same, warbling all the while.

The woman stared, wide-eyed and impressed, as a smile slowly alit her face.

“Dragons. I think I’m ready for that.”

Valka puzzled over that statement, as the woman turned to look at the stone statue sitting idly by across from them all.

“I have definitely met my fair share of weird over the last few years. I think dragons are now in my top five, though. Right underneath these guys.”

“Oi. You still have a lot to catch up on.”

The woman pivoted on her heel to face them again.

“I think you’re right, I do,” she replied with a nod. The coldness in her eyes had already fled and was replaced by a deep-seated curiousity, a determined need to slake that thirst for answers. She regarded the four of them in turn, her initial fear upon seeing the dragons well and gone now. “I think we might need to wait for that, though, so we can get these guys caught up at the same time. Mind giving me the basics, though?”

Valka turned her gaze on the statues, as did Lupin, when the woman pointed at the statue. Once more, she was puzzled at her statement, frowning.

“You mean the gargoyles.” Lupin responded flatly, her ears flicking. Valka didn’t miss the flick of the woman’s eyes straying to the werewolf’s ears atop her head.

“Yes. I mean the gargoyles. We’ll have to wait for the sun to set, and I’m guessing it’s still pretty early in the day.”

Valka exchanged a look with Lupin, a quiet conversation passing between them in the span of only a few seconds. She shrugged at Valka at the end.

“We can afford to wait.” Valka conceded at last. _Although I’m not entirely sure why, but I suppose we’ll have our answers after dark._

She just hoped it would be well worth it, as she watched Lupin return the weapon she most likely took from the woman. The woman, thankfully enough, didn’t see fit to turn it on them and simply returned it to a hidden sheath somewhere inside her jacket. She regarded the werewolf for a moment, her curious stare open and earnest as she looked over the ears, the tail, the paws.

“I’m sorry, but I have to ask…what _are_ you?”

“A werewolf. And you’re obviously a human, so I won’t bother asking you the same.”

The woman, to her credit, allowed the waspish remark to slide off her back without a second thought. Instead, she rolled right along and motioned politely to Valka.

“And her?”

“She has a name. It’s Valka Haddock. She’s a Viking.”

“A Viking,” the woman repeated incredulously, as she stared over Valka once again. A fleeting smile touched at her lips. “I can actually see it now. I’m Elisa Maza.”

“A pleasure,” Valka nodded, returning the smile to the woman. “And this is Lupin Ferus.”

“Lupin and Valka.” She shifted her gaze to the dragons beside them. “And do they have names?”

“This is Cloudjumper,” Valka said, reaching a hand up as she sensed the Stormcutter leaning in closer. Her fingers brushed warm scales and she was reassured by that sensation alone. He timbered softly, the vibrations buzzing pleasantly into her hand. Lupin took her cue and laid a hand on Whiplash’s skull as she introduced the Night Fury.

With the pleasantries aside, Elisa quickly suggested they convene somewhere else, yet stopped mid-sentence to stare at Lupin. The werewolf’s concentration was simply elsewhere, if her rigid and still frame was anything to go by. When Valka glanced over, she saw Whiplash was much the same. They were both staring off in the direction of Berk, even if they couldn’t see it in a clear line of sight. Slowly, the fur on Lupin’s tail began to bristle and spike. Valka pursed her lips.

“What do you hear, Lupin?”

“Something’s going on in the village.” She said sotto voce at first. The werewolf glanced over at Valka. “I’ll check it out. You can handle Elisa, right?”

“Yes, but Lupin—”

“No time! Gotta fly!”

Without another word, Lupin scrambled up into Whiplash’s saddle, her entire frame simply shivering with excitement. The moment she had settled, the Night Fury catapulted himself into the air and charged across the sky toward the village. Valka was already slinking herself up onto Cloudjumper’s back herself and she could feel the tension in his frame that he was just as ready to get going. Elisa rushed forward without thought.

“Hey, whoa, wait a minute! What about me? You’re not just going to leave me here, are you?”

Valka hesitated, debating it for the first few precious moments before she caved and offered Elisa a hand. “Hurry up, now!”

The woman was quick to take the offer, scrambling up after Valka. Cloudjumper howled as he took the air, his powerful frame getting them airborne. He quickly banked towards Berk, and already she could see the chaos that was breaking out.

Someone was intruding in the village and the dragons were not happy about it.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Notes: Hooray, we’re making fucking progress and characters will now begin to appear in earnest! *cheers* I know, you’re probably thinking, “FINALLY, Shay-Shay, god you’re so slow!” I like build-up, sue me. Oh wait, please don’t. I was joking.
> 
> Anyway, moving on! I’ve also been fleshing out Chimera Dynamics more these days and perhaps when I’ve fine-tuned everything, I’ll release some info tidbits about the company and some of its innards as well as its employees. The first “soundtrack” in a series of several for Crash will soon be posted on the blog. :D


	11. What a Bunch of A-Holes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: Hahaha—no. I do not, nor will I ever, own any media showcased in this piece of fanfiction. They all belong to their respective creators and owners. The only thing I (barely) own is this piece are the written works and the original characters within it.**
> 
> **Warnings: There will be cursing, violence, mild nudity, blood, gore, and a few other minor things under the rainbow with this fic.**
> 
> **Notes: You’ll be hearing me say this quite a lot in the future: I regret nothing in my choice of chapter titles and quotes. Enjoy.**

**Chapter Eleven:  
What a Bunch of A-Holes**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

_“Quill, I have lived most of my life surrounded by my enemies. I will be grateful to die among my friends.”  
_ _“You're an honorable man, Quill. I will fight beside you. And in the end, I will see my wife and daughter again.”  
_ _“I am Groot.”  
_ _“Aww, what the hell? I don't got that long a lifespan anyway. Well, now I'm standing. Happy? We're all standing up now. Bunch of jackasses, standing in a circle.”  
_ **-Gamora, Drax, Groot and Rocket, “ _Guardians of the Galaxy_ ”  
**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

It wasn’t hard to find the first disturbance going on down in Berk.

It was surprisingly easy.

What was difficult was trying to separate the Monstrous Nightmare currently tangling itself around the bright red-skinned, stone-handed, whipcord-thin tailed individual trying to beat the dragon senseless with his bare hands without getting pummeled herself.

Lupin ultimately decided to wait until a break occurred between the two, instead.

The dragon screamed a battle cry for all to hear before going in lightning quick to snap jaws and slash claws at the demon attempting to pummel the Nightmare into submission. The demon swung his close-fisted stone hand, missed, and was promptly slammed in the gut by the Monstrous Nightmare’s tail. The new distance between dragon and demon was all the opening Lupin needed—and she had to move fast before either of them closed the gap. She and the Night Fury landed between the two opposing forces just before they could go back in swinging and screaming.

With Whiplash at her back, holding the Nightmare at bay, she put herself in the warpath of the demon.

She almost found herself falling over in doubt of her own eyes as she stared down the infamous Hellboy. She briefly wondered if she needed glasses, or if her mind was playing tricks on her, or any other number of things.

Lupin then quickly dismissed the idea entirely. When the incredulity finally passed, she began assessing the situation. As far as she could tell, he was alone. He was bloodied and bruised, his coat and clothes torn here and there, no thanks to the Monstrous Nightmare. But, he was standing under his own power and not looking tired at all.

_If I just met Elisa Maza and found Castle Wyvern with the Manhattan Clan here on Berk, then why the hell not Hellboy now? I’m willing to bet Liz and Abe aren’t that far behind either._

Whiplash’s plaintive yowl brought her back down and out of her thoughts just as Hellboy began peeling himself off the wall the Nightmare had flung him into. He groaned loudly and at length, rolling his broad shoulders. From behind her, the Monstrous Nightmare hissed deeply, but the chattering warning growl from Whiplash kept the other dragon at bay—for now.

“Whip…get the Nightmare out of here, would you?” She said to the black dragon, and then added to the demon, “Just take it easy, all right, buddy? I got this. Go, Whiplash. Go on.”

Whiplash snorted an affirmative to her. Shortly after there were rumbles and growls and soft screeches—but the magical sound of wingbeats taking off into the air was all she needed to hear to relax.

All the while, Hellboy stared her down, his whipcord-thin tail lashing back and forth in agitated arcs. His yellow eyes shifted back and forth between her and the departing dragons until they were more or less alone. It wasn’t until they were that Hellboy relaxed himself, even if it was only by a small margin.

“Who the hell are you?”

 _Fair enough question, I sometimes ask myself the same question every other day,_ Lupin thought.

“The name’s Lupin.”

“Hellboy.”

“Much obliged.”

“You live here?”

“Only just recently.”

“Were there always fire-breathing lizards crawling all over the place?”

“Since the day I arrived couple months back and then some.”

“Hmm.” Hellboy jutted his jaw upwards in a single nod. He began digging through his coat pockets for something, and she caught a glimpse of the big fucking gun holstered at his side. The Samaritan, if she recalled its designation correctly.

She could already pick up the faint scent of burnt ozone permeating the air from his general direction. What were the bullets filled with again, she wondered. Silver was definitely on the list, she knew that much. She was counting her lucky stars that he hasn’t started shooting at her, bad shot or not. Silver wasn’t her friend. Never has been, never will be.

“So, I gotta ask, because I wanna say it’s obvious, but I could be wrong,” Hellboy continued, seeming to found what he was looking for. It was a cigar, she realized, as he popped an end into his mouth and clenched it between his teeth. He began patting himself down again, perhaps for a lighter or some matches. Lupin remained rooted to her spot. “What are you? Shapeshifter that got stuck between forms?”

“…werewolf, actually.”

“Huh. You ain’t like any werewolf I’ve ever come across before.”

“Always a first time for everything.”

“I guess that’s true. So, another question. Again, probably obvious but well…” Hellboy found a box of matches and after popping one out, struck it on the side and lit his cigar. He puffed on it a few times until a thick puff of smoke swirled from the cherry red tip. Hellboy blew another wisp out his mouth as he began strolling in closer. He twirled his stone hand for emphasis, the sound of stone grinding against stone crackling in the air between them as he approached. “What is this place? Some kind of old Viking settlement?”

“Something like that. Old yes, but still operational.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean—”

Lupin stopped short, her back stiffening and her ears going ramrod straight. Hellboy shifted from relaxed to tense in the span of a second himself, yellow eyes narrowing as he watched.

“Kid?”

She was already tuning him out, her ears catching something else, something far, something disturbing the relative peace in the village from elsewhere. If Hellboy was here, perhaps Abe and Liz were as well, she told herself again. The something else was maybe them, wandering around, if she was hearing things correctly: footsteps caused by booted feet. She almost felt relief swarming over her—but it was quickly shattered when the first set of gunshots rang out.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Time was really crunching down on them. For every rushed step they took, precious seconds were being wasted away. Lupin could hear Hellboy keeping pace with her, his longer stride matching her shorter one—but she could, if she so wished to, outdistance the demon easily. Whatever was going on, however, she had a nagging feeling that she’d need all the help she could get.

As they ran, Hellboy called to her, “What in the name of all that’s holy _is_ this place?”

“It’s a Viking village! Sort of!”

“What do you mean, ‘ _sort of_ ’?

“It’s a long story, and you’ll get answers as soon as we figure out who else is here!”

“I’ll hold you to that, kid!”

 _I’m sure you will,_ Lupin thought as they rounded the corner of a cramped-looking house with a vicious dragon’s head carved into the bower, colourful and menacing. The two darted down a lane around that house in between more homes, all of them unique in colours, carvings, and size. The howling screams of one too many dragons was raising an alarming raucous. A shiver traveled up and down the werewolf’s spine at the blasts of fire going off into the air—the bright crackle of Deadly Nadders, the molten spitting globs of Gronckles, the smoke-spark-boom of Hideous Zipplebacks, and the unique discharges from various other species.

Whiplash came sailing in, the air whistling sharply in anticipation as he pulled in right alongside Lupin. The earth beneath them shuddered heavily as he hit the ground running full pelt.

“What’s with all the dragons?”

“They live here! So try to be fucking courteous and not to attack them. You leave them alone, they’ll leave you alone!”

“If you say so…” Hellboy muttered, his tone insinuating he didn’t quite believe her, but he’d reserve judgement for the time being.

Lupin led the way, her ears twitching all the while as they stayed the course. _Close. We’re close._

Even from the distance they had originally been at, Lupin had heard the huff and puff of people running, taking cover, shouting orders, firing their pistols, reloading…

Soldiers, perhaps, who knew how to call out patterns on when to attack or take cover. Or some kind of law enforcement or maybe even mercenaries. Christ, she hoped it wasn’t the latter. The last thing they needed was a bunch of mercs dropping in on them, trying to snatch up dragons. Would anyone even know about them? She hoped like hell that wasn’t the case.

She, Hellboy, and Whiplash came upon one of the smaller open town squares, and found a ring of dragon bodies encroaching themselves upon a barn. She could smell blood in the air. A little human, a little dragon, but hopefully nothing too serious. Lupin’s heart sank all the same.

 _Valka is not going to like this at all,_ she realized, before amending with, _I don’t like this at all either._

She exchanged a worried look with Whiplash, and then with Hellboy. He furrowed his heavy brow and grit his teeth, motioning to the pack before them. “Well? What’s the plan?”

The werewolf took in a breath, slow and steady and calm with confidence infused at its core.

“Hang back a bit. They don’t know you all that well.”

Hellboy gave her a shrug and waved her on with his stone hand. “Show me what you got, kid.”

Lupin gave pause at that, not sure if he was being serious or sarcastic or perhaps even both.

She decided it wasn’t important for the time being. As long as he kept his distance and didn’t try to start a brawl with any of the dragons like he had with the Monstrous Nightmare when she found him, she hoped things would be fine. Lupin started forward, Whiplash stalking along beside her. As she approached the gaggle of whipping tails and arched backsides, Lupin gave a sharp whistle. Most heads or bodies turned and snaked around to look at her directly. Whiplash barked out a low-timbered growl, fluttering his black wings and whipping his long tail in agitation for emphasis.

She studied them all, seeing that for the most part, they appeared unharmed. She hoped it would remain as such, but she could still smell the blood.

“Git! Go on, git! Whatever it is, I’ll handle it!”

Several of the dragons waddled or stalked out of the way to give them space to pass as she and Whiplash drew closer. Others remained stubbornly in place, refusing to step aside until she got closer. They slinked off, but not too far, until all but one was left standing at the entrance of the barn, unmoving. She found herself face-to-face with a brutish, bright-green Rumblehorn, staring defiantly down at her with narrowed yellow eyes and fangs bared in warning. Whiplash snorted heavily and snapped his teeth, gnashing them for good measure. Lupin’s lips twitched as the regarded the heavily armoured dragon, studying, watching, thinking.

Rumblehorns were extremely stubborn dragons, she remembered Valka telling her. Heavily armoured, extraordinarily amazing trackers, incredibly strong…they weren’t a dragon to be trifled with, and with so careless an attitude either. She took a measured step forward, testing the waters, and immediately retracted her paw when the Rumblehorn chattered out a warning hiss, waving massive horns in her direction. She dipped her head to lower her gaze and carefully extended an arm out with her palm open and fingers spread. She could feel the Rumblehorn snort heavily into it, hot and muggy and curious. Whiplash remained reluctantly at her side, quivering with pent up tension.

A worried whine escaped past his lips as he watched. She issued a soft hushing noise to her companion, adding with a quiet murmur of reassurance that she’d be fine. The black dragon didn’t look convinced, and instead was rolling his shoulders in preparation to leap in if things got ugly. It brought a wry smile to her lips. She didn’t expect anything less from the Night Fury.

She was glad that it didn’t come down to it when a knot of tension in her shoulders eased up a considerable amount as a sudden jolt of something hard and heavy pressed into her palm calmly. She looked up to find the Rumblehorn’s eyes closed, a low droning buzz emanating from the massive green behemoth. The soft vibrations traveled up into her arm and made her skin break out into pleasant gooseflesh.

Lupin allowed a moment of silent reverie to pass between the two of them before getting down to business.

“Can you move now, please? I can take care of what’s bothering you, but I need to get into the barn to do that.”

The other dragons around her had slowly backed away, giving the werewolf room to work with the Rumblehorn. For a long moment that felt like a millennium had passed, the Rumblehorn still remained glued to the spot. She felt a surge of impatience welling up inside her but then it quickly died down as the Rumblehorn slowly lumbered out of the way. She breathed a sigh of relief, offering a tired but thankful smile.

“Thanks. C’mon, Whiplash. Let’s go see what’s behind Door Number One, shall we?”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

It was eerily quiet within the confines of the barn. Without the chatter of livestock or barnyard creatures, it was hard to feel at ease in a place that really belonged to them. At least when she went to the barn closest to Valka’s home, she had Whiplash helping occupy the place. It didn’t quite feel as off-putting as this oppressed atmosphere did at the moment.

She sniffed softly, ears swiveling and the sound of a heartbeat and breathe working into strained lungs was the first thing she noticed, and the whir of mechanics came second. She could feel eyes on her, up on the loft above, perhaps watching through the gap in the slats. She cleared her throat.

“I know you’re in here. You might want to come out. I’d rather not have to come looking.”

 _I know where you are, too_ , she wanted to add but thought better of it at the last second. She waited, allowing that to sink in before continuing.

“I’ve got the dragons under control. They won’t try to hurt you anymore, if it’s any consolation.” Lupin canted her head to the side, heard shuffling and soft whispers:

“Think we can trust her?”

“Do we have a choice, John? You got scratched up pretty bad.”

“This is nothing.”

She felt a tight smile pulling at her lips in spite of herself. “If you need medical attention, I can help. I’m afraid I’m no doctor, but I know a little bit of field med fixes.”

There was a sudden pause and hitch of breath.

“…she can hear us?” Another pause, the question repeated, only louder. “You can hear us?”

She sighed. “My ears aren’t for decoration.”

She waited, her eyes drawn toward the top of the loft. Lo and behold, two faces peeped over the top, staring down at her. One was a black man—young-looking, perhaps late twenties to early thirties if she had to guess, with his dark hair trimmed down, skin the colour of toffee, and he had rather stunning blue eyes—and the other a white man. He looked a little more harried than his companion, his hair short but dark and thick, and his hazel eyes glittering with suspicion, mistrust, and reluctance in believing her. They were both dressed casually in dark hued clothes. When they shifted, she caught a glimpse of holsters and pistols stuffed inside them underneath their armpits at their sides, hidden beneath the comfort of their jackets. She recognized the style: plain-clothes cops.

She grew up avoiding guys like them all the time back in Los Angeles. She had been such a bad kid—racing cars on the streets, breaking into her old schools, hacking for the fun of it, and just being a public nuisance in general. The key was not getting caught or leaving behind damning evidence of who she was that could incriminate her later on down the road. When she recognized just how steep the road was getting and how hard a tumble she’d take if she stumbled even once, Lupin had decided to join the military to clean her act up. It worked…for the most part.

Some cops were okay, she had come to find, in her years of troublemaking, though. Others...not so much. She had soon learned how to get good reads on cops. Those of whom were generally decent officers and had a sense of humour, and whom she had to avoid completely or risk the worst of the worst when crossing their paths. She wasn’t a woman of colour, but she was still a woman—and some cops were just plain assholes to women because they believed they could get away with it. Didn’t seem to matter the colour of their skin most times.

They were even worse to mutants, once they were outed. Didn’t seem to matter what gender, colour, creed, age, or race they were then. Everything went out the window at that point, and all cops ever saw were freaks needing to be put down or locked up.

Lupin felt a rising tension building back up between her shoulders and along her spine, drawing taut her muscles as instinct told her to slink away while she still could.

 _That was then_ , she told herself. _I can handle myself now. I’m not a kid. They can’t do shit to me if I don’t want them to. We’re not in L.A. They can’t touch me._

She kept repeating that mantra over and over again in her head, because logically, she knew it to be true. Old habits died hard, though. She waited as they debated back and forth, until they finally called down to her that they’d be coming down. She waited, backing up toward the entrance and Whiplash did the same as well. He watched the two men with sharp-eyed vigilance, his wild green eyes locked on their every move. She noticed the white man’s left sleeve was shredded—most likely from the claws of one of the dragons—and she could smell the blood in the air. It made her want to gag.

Most werewolves loved the smell of human blood and the taste of human flesh. Lupin wasn’t sure what it was about herself. She has always hated it, couldn’t stand the smell. Even the smallest whiff usually made her want to puke. She was pretty sure she’d get sick if she tried eating human flesh and didn’t deign it as part of her plan in the future to ever endeavor in such a disgusting trifle.

She would rather stick to whatever wild animal unlucky enough to cross her paths during her full moon romps, thank you so very much.

Pushing down the urge to upheave her stomach contents and ignoring the taste of bile tinging the back of her throat, Lupin cautiously stepped forward after both of them were firmly on the ground. Already, she saw their gazes darting up and down her form, starting with the ears, her pawed feet, the tail swishing at her backside, even the scar on her face.

_They can’t touch me. They can’t. I won’t let them. We’re not back home in L.A. They can’t touch me._

“I think I speak for the both of us when I say this: where the hell are we, what is going on around here, and _what_ are you?”

Not who. What.

That question, Lupin guessed, was going to be a pervading and consistent question she’d have to get used to. She wasn’t willing to hide what she is as a werewolf, not here anyway, but her pyrokinetic nature was an entirely different matter.

_Not like half the people would even believe me if I told them. If these guys are from another world…maybe they don’t even know what a werewolf or a mutant is. Fuck, I hope not._

Lupin was tempted to slump forward, to let her shoulders slouch, to sigh in exasperation and annoyance and a number of other emotions that were flittering through her at that moment. Instead, she slid on a mask she hadn’t worn in nearly a year.

“First, the name’s Ferus. Lupin Ferus. Second, what you just encountered were various species of dragon. No, I’m not lying or joking or playing around. I’m pretty sure the pain in your arm feels pretty damned real enough to back that up. Third, any and all questions you might have will be debriefed at a later time today. And fourth, I’m a werewolf. Believe it or not, it really doesn’t make a difference to me at this point. You need medical attention. I’m not here to help you ponder the meaning of life and your place in the universe. I’m here to keep you safe, end of story.”

Lupin’s ears twitched as she heard the sound of scuffling boots coming from outside. She paused to listen. The gait and weight of the sound definitely belonged to Hellboy, but there was two new sets approaching them rapidly. Most of the mob of dragons outside had either left the area or were lingering elsewhere, mostly from the rooftops or between alleyways to watch. She canted her head to the side, listening, curious, her attention drawn to what was going on out there.

She startled when she heard Hellboy’s voice, tinny with growing distance, give an elated and relieved cry of the two approaching persons.

 _Liz and Abe are here too, huh? I should have figured,_ the werewolf thought. She was both a little thrilled and disappointed, thankful and saddened. Hellboy wasn’t alone, yes, but now two more people were stuck here and in need of being sent home. It was a double-edged sword kind of situation. She was grudgingly hoping that the twins succeeded in their attempts at securing the Silent Sparrow project that they had spoken about days prior. If it meant getting these people back home where they belonged, then all the better. They didn’t need to be here, they didn’t belong here.

_At least we’re isolated, away from the public. I can only imagine the chaos that would happen if any of them walked down the street…_

Lupin paused on that thought, mulling it over, before shaking her head. _On second thought, most people would probably think they’re really dedicated cosplayers._

Returning her attention back to the two in front of her, she motioned with a nod of her head for them to follow. Whiplash crooned softly at her side, mimicking the movement. As he whirled around to catch up, he nudged her arm until she was forced to cradle it and she couldn’t keep the laughter from bubbling over. “Geez, all right already, Whip…impatient thing, you. I’m moving as fast as I can.”

The black dragon made a noise similar to a “harrumph”, eyeballing her with a half-lidded gaze that all but said, _‘Oh really? I’m having a hard time believing that.’_

She snorted back at him.

As she and Whiplash headed for the barn entrance, she kept an ear on the two men behind her while simultaneously keeping tabs on Hellboy’s little group outside. She paused on the threshold, looking back. Mistrust and wariness glittered in the eyes of the two men as they stared her down, their singular question plain as day on their faces: should they trust her?

Lupin sighed, motioning outside. “If you want to take a look yourself, you can. I cleared out the dragons. They ain’t gonna be a bother anymore.” She held up her hand, curling all fingers except for her pinkie inward. “Pinkie swear.”

The two men exchanged looks, a conversation going between them without words needing to be spoken before they began to move forward, caution lining every step they took. She waited, as did Whiplash. As she waited, her ears flicked toward the noise of approaching footsteps—three sets—and three distinct scent marks from each person was wafting along on the air. Blood and fire and ash and…fish. There was fish in the air.

_Why would there be…? Oh. Oh, no. Oh shit, that’s right._

She shot a look toward Whiplash. He smelled it too. The Night Fury’s head was thrust into the air, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled the scent while his pupils widened out. He flashed her a gummy smile, dancing as he walked. His expression fell a bit when she scowled and shook her head at him.

“I smell it too, but no. No, you can’t eat it— _him_.”

“Are you talking to that thing?” The man clutching his injured arm said.

“His name is Whiplash, and yes. I am. He’s about as intelligent as a person, although I’d have to wager he’s a lot smarter than you.”

The injured man’s partner smirked. “I think I might have to agree with her on that, John.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant. Let’s all laugh at the guy who got mauled.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have opened fire on a bunch of dragons.”

“How was I supposed to know they were dragons?” He pressed ardently, glowering at her.

“Did you not see the wings, the scales, the spiny backsides, and oh, right—the fire-breathing?”

Discomfort flashed across the injured man’s face, awkwardly adding to the silence between them all. Whiplash bumped into Lupin, a whine building in his throat. She looked down at him, noticing immediately he was staring off somewhere else. She followed his gaze and stopped dead in her tracks. She heard and smelled them coming, but seeing them was really believing.

The blue-skinned icthyo sapien and the pyrokinetic human were rejoined with the demon prince from hell. She almost wished she could say she was surprised to see Liz with a bump on her belly, but memory kicked in and reminded her of the last film. Liz had found out she was pregnant. At the time, she hadn’t been showing, yet seeing her now…she had to be at least six months by now. Although, on the other hand, she was carrying twins…

She heard the other two stop in their tracks behind her, a hiss of breathing sucked between clenched teeth. Lupin glanced over her shoulder at the two and jerked her head.

“Well? You ain’t gettin’ any better. Let’s go.”

“I must be dreaming. This is a dream. This isn’t real.”

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that, bucko.” She paused, cocking a brow. “Never did get either of your names.”

“Not that it matters, since I’ll be waking up soon enough. Detective John Kennex. LAPD.” The injured man remarked.

“Detective Dorian, LAPD,” his partner said with a more affable tone. He couldn’t hide the smile he briefly flashed John. “And as much as I hate to disagree with John, I’m convinced that this is real life and not some fantastical dreamland. I want to disbelieve it myself, but I’m not the one who’s living in denial.”

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you, ‘living in denial’.”

“As much as I love this whole thing you’ve got going on, but unless you feel like bleeding all over the place, I suggest you hurry up so we can take a look at that arm.”

“It’s nothing serious at this point so long as he keeps pressure on the wound, but he will need some stitches. I’ve already done a scan on the injury.”

“What have I told you about scanning me?”

“Technically speaking, John, you said to never scan your testicles. You never extended it beyond that part of your anatomy.”

“Really? You—you scanned—you just _had_ to bring that up in front of her?”

 _He’s a synthoid? Like Copper?_ Lupin raised a brow at that, but already, she could see things that obviously marked Dorian as not-human. They were subtle markers, and she had to wonder just how similar the world they came from that they had synthoids as well.

_But ours don’t even have markers telling us that they’re synthoids. Copper almost fooled me into believing he was fully human for the first few moments we met._

Synthoids were just one of the more advanced products that came out of CyBionics, the company branch underneath Chimera Dynamics’ expansive umbrella reach. Advanced robotics was what the company did, along with research and development of realizing the full potential of advanced intelligence.

_Somehow, I just know that’s going to blow up in their faces one day. They’ll pass the Turing Test and end up reenacting SkyNet and then we’ll have friggin’ Terminators galore running rampant._

She broke off from her thoughts, shaking them off like cobwebs. Now wasn’t the time for distractions. She refocused herself back on the two men—well, one man and one synthoid who looked like a man—and cleared her throat. They paused in their bickering (she couldn’t tell if it was honest or teasing, but it also felt familiar with how she bickered with her Marines) and they stopped, turning their gazes back to her.

“As cute as this is, we should get going. Arms to mend, explanations to be had. Things like that. I’m sure you’d love some answers.”

“Oh, yeah, right, because I just love waking up in strange towns that certainly don’t look like Los Angeles, and then proceeding to run for my life and oh, yes, getting mauled in the process.” Kennex remarked sardonically, his lips twisting into a frown as he motioned gingerly to his injured arm. Dorian, on the other hand, naturally contrasted his partner with a more curious and open expression. His bright blue eyes roamed over her ears and he motioned to them.

“Those are real. And so are those,” he said, motioning to her pawed feet and then her tail for further measure and Lupin shrugged.

“Perks of being a werewolf.”

“I’m sure they are in this place,” a low baritone voice interrupted. Lupin craned her neck to glance over her shoulder. Hellboy, Abe Sapien, and Liz Taylor were making their way over to join them. When she turned back to Kennex and Dorian, they were staring unabashedly at the two inhuman beings looking of the trio. Lupin stifled a groan. This isn’t going to end well.

“Stop staring,” she muttered to them. Kennex didn’t look at her, but Dorian did. “Don’t. Stare. It’s fucking rude.”

“Sorry, but it’s kind of hard not to stare when one guy is blue and the other is bright red.” Kennex grumbled back, acknowledging her with the barest look as his lips twitched.

Lupin opened her mouth to retort, but stopped, her jaw clacking shut suddenly, her ears twisting atop her head. She turned her head to follow.

“Hey, kid, what do you hear,” Hellboy asked. Lupin’s tail flicked and she blinked. Whiplash crooned, his back arching as he slinked himself around Lupin. The black dragon flared his wings for a brief few moments, then settled with a flutter. He turned his head toward her, flashing a gummy smile. Lupin returned the gesture.

“Relax. It’s just the local dragon lady.”

“I’m sorry, but did you just say there’s a local dragon lady?”

“Yep. She knows more about these animals than anyone else on this island.” Lupin glanced over her shoulder at the two groups still keeping a somewhat strained but polite distance from one another. “Perks of living with them for over two decades. Let’s go meet up with Valka, everyone.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Valka was at a loss at the scene she, Elisa, and Cloudjumper had stumbled upon. There was something else going on somewhere in the village, she could hear the commotion, but she also knew Lupin was already handling that. So, she had delegated this secondary situation to herself and Elisa. The other woman clung tightly to Valka as they circled around the copse of houses and the open lane between them below. Men with weapons of some kind—perhaps the advanced kind that Lupin would know more about, the same that Elisa had in her possession even, Valka reasoned—surrounded by a number of the dragon flock. They were tall, the both of them, one a little more gangly in body and limbs but still broad enough to be intimidating in frame. He bore a leather jacket with a dark shirt and the same blue trousers that Lupin seemed fond of. His ensemble was completed with a pair of well-worn boots. His companion wasn’t as tall, perhaps only a few inches shorter, but he was broader in build and wore an outfit strikingly similar to the taller man. Both were scowling heavily at the dragons, eyes darting back and forth as the circled dragons pressed inward and closer. The taller man caught sight of her and Elisa on Cloudjumper’s back, smacked his partner’s arm, and soon the both of them were gaping upwards as she, Elisa, and Cloudjumper made their descent.

The dragons noticed the pair of women as well, some craning their long or short necks to watch. Hobblegrunts, Deadly Nadders, Monstrous Nightmares, several Hideous Zipplebacks, a good dozen or more Terrible Terrors, and even a curious Thunderdrum, they were all looking ready to attack if things didn’t calm down soon. Valka pulled her crook out aside, and with a few shakes of it, they began to slink backwards and away to make room. The two men did not look relieved in the least, but they lowered their weapons as Cloudjumper landed heavily before them. The Stormcutter stretched out his wing-limbs, but made it a point to not venture any closer than he had to. Valka studied the pair from her lofty vantage point, frowning. She pointed her crook at them and the both of them barely flinched.

“How did you do that?” Elisa asked quietly behind her.

“I’ve had much time with the dragons over the years,” Valka simply answered, returning her attention back on the men below. They were warriors, that she could discern immediately. They were no strangers to fighting. She could see it in their eyes. That, and she could also see the suspicion and mistrust glittering in their depths.

“Put down your weapons,” she called to them. “As a show of good faith.”

“Not a freakin’ chance in hell, lady. Not while those things are still around,” the shorter of the duo spat back, his scowl coming back full force as he stared her down. Valka narrowed her eyes in return, taking in the situation. Elisa tensed behind her. Valka glanced over her shoulder at the loose ring of dragons still around them. She shook her crook at them again. This time, they slowly began to creep off into the depths of the village while others took to the air and went swooping away with shrieks echoing around them. Before long, they were left with only Cloudjumper in the immediate vicinity.

Valka turned back to the other two, cocking a brow up.

“Cloudjumper stays here,” she rested a hand on the back of the great Stormcutter’s neck. In return, Cloudjumper twisted his head until he was staring at her. His jaw shivered and she patted his nose reassuringly with a thin smile. Cloudjumper twisted his skull back around and she slowly slid down his shoulder and along his front wing-limb with ease and comfort. Elisa was more careful as descended Cloudjumper’s backside before she followed Valka.

Whatever weapons the men had, Valka did not fancy being on the wrong end of them. They looked similar to the one that Elisa had pointed at Lupin earlier. They were still clutched in tight grips, but at the very least, they were lowered.

For now.

Valka peered over her shoulder at Elisa, who nodded in return as she flanked her right side. When Valka turned her gaze back to the two men, they were alternating between looking at her and looking at Elisa. After a moment, they began to expand their curiousity—all the while keeping an eye on Cloudjumper at the same time—and the flabbergasted expressions that eventually began to cloud their eyes overtook them.

“Where in the hell are we?”

This was directed to her and Elisa by the shorter, broader man. He pinned them down with an intense and piercing gaze that suggested he would not easily lose his focus on the matter and demanded answers.

Elisa motioned to Valka, as if to say, _‘You got this one’_.

Valka gave the woman a curt nod, then turned to the two men.

“You are on the island of Berk. This is my home, and it’s theirs as well. You would do best not to try and harm any of the dragons, because believe me, you won’t live long enough to regret it. That is not a threat, that is a guarantee.”

Cloudjumper let off a rumbling growl for emphasis to her words. This time, they did flinch. Valka almost smiled, but kept her face schooled into a neutral mask. She motioned to the two men.

“If I’m to guess correctly, you haven’t a clue as to how either of you got here.”

“Yeah, that’s…how did you know?”

Valka breathed in deeply, slowly. She was beginning to suspect that the changes that the twins had promised were nigh upon them and that this invasion of her home was just the beginning. First were the land expansions. Next came the new castle. Now there were people. Just how much more was there going to be? She pushed aside her doubts and worries. Now was not the time to be lingering on such thoughts. There would be time later on to attend to such matters.

The Viking woman gave motion to Elisa, who waved as though on cue.

“Elisa Maza does not belong to Berk, as you can clearly see. It’s a Viking village. Not…” She gave pause, realizing she did not know where Elisa was from originally. She turned back to the dark-haired woman, pleading silently with her eyes for help. Thankfully, the other woman seemed to read her clearly enough and stepped closer. She pulled something out of her bright leather jacket and flashed it to the two men.

“Detective Elisa Maza, NYPD, 23rd Precinct. I woke up not too long ago, up in Wyvern Castle over there.”

Elisa pointed toward the new gargantuan castle that now made its home upon the new jutting cliff further out east of Berk. The two men looked up at the structure, their confusion no more clearer then than it was minutes ago.

“Now, I mention this because that castle doesn’t belong there.”

“Where exactly does it belong?”

“Dean, think about it. A medieval castle on a Viking island? It doesn’t fit at all. No one has ever found one before. Maybe they’re right, I mean…we’ve seen crazier things,” the taller man said as he addressed his partner.

“Okay, and your point? Usually there’s a first time for everything.”

Elisa shook her head.

“You misunderstand me. I say that it doesn’t belong there, because it was originally built in Scotland, and this clearly isn’t Scotland. But the castle itself was relocated, stone by stone, and rebuilt on top of a New York City skyscraper by a man named David Xanatos.”

The shock hit the two men full force as they did a double take on the distant structure. All the while, Valka waited, and was more than relieved when it seemed they no longer cared for the weapons in their hands.

Their attention alternated between the castle, Elisa, Valka, and then Cloudjumper for the next minute before they looked to one another. The taller man was the first to break eye contact with his partner and turned to Elisa.

“How do we know that this is all real?”

“Look, I’m not the authority on this, as much as I’d like to reassure you that I am. Valka here is the one who lives here. Well, her and the dragons and one other person.”

“Just one other person?” The taller man continued. The other, Dean, looked just as skeptical.

“There’s an entire village here and you mean to tell me that this whole place is empty except for you and one other person, minus us?”

Valka nodded. “Yes. Lupin is undoubtedly working on bringing a few more others over, new arrivals such as yourselves. We can explain what’s going on as best we can, but we all have to gather together. Otherwise, we’ll just be repeating the same thing over and over again.”

“Wait, did you say the other person’s name is Lupin?” Dean pressed, a wry grin pulling at his lips as he snorted. “As in, the Harry Potter character?”

Valka shared a quizzical look with Elisa. “I’m…not sure who that is.”

“Dean.”

“Okay, okay, fine. I just found that kind of funny…”

“Of course you did.”

“Look, we can keep standing around here and making jokes, but unless you want answers, we should probably get going.”

“Right,” Dean muttered as he tucked away his weapon. His partner did the same. A knot of tension that had built up in between Valka’s shoulder blades finally began to ease up when they did that. She was no stranger to men with weapons, but strange new ones that she didn’t quite yet know how they worked that had been aimed at her dragons—it made her more than a little nervous.

“Hey—we caught your names, Valka and Elisa, right? We didn’t introduce ourselves. My name’s Sam and this is my brother, Dean.”

“Sam and Dean. Nice to meet you both,” Elisa nodded. Valka did much the same, turning away and motioning to Cloudjumper. The great dragon rumbled and shivered, pressing in closer toward Valka. She noticed from the corner of her eye, with great amusement, how the two men watched her and Cloudjumper warily. She tipped her shepherd crook.

“This way. We’ll meet up with Lupin and whatever others she might have found.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Additional Notes: Some quick time notes to go over. In the films, Hellboy’s actor Ron Perlman is six-foot-one. In the comics, however, Hellboy is listed at eight-foot-six. I’ve elected to go with the comic book height, simply because fuck it, why not. Hellboy is awesome. He’s been on my roster for a long ass time and now he gets time to shine and be Tall, Dark, and Snarky. Hooray!**
> 
> **Another note, Valka stands at a whopping six-foot-three, Sam Winchester is at a good six-foot-four, and Dean Winchester is six-foot-one.**
> 
> **…Lupin is five-foot-even when she is on human feet. Yeah, take that in. She’s surrounded by giants.**


	12. Ain't No Grave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: Hahaha—no. I do not, nor will I ever, own any media showcased in this piece of fanfiction. They all belong to their respective creators and owners. The only thing I (barely) own is this piece are the written works and the original characters within it.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings: There will be cursing, violence, mild nudity, blood, gore, and a few other minor things under the rainbow with this fic.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Notes: Apologies for the delay.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Just found out I was pregnant a few weeks ago and it’s been absolutely fucking with my mood, motivation, appetite, and other things that threw me completely off-kilter.**

**Chapter Twelve:  
Ain’t No Grave**

**OoOoOoOoOoO  
**  
_There ain’t no grave can hold my body down  
There ain’t no grave can hold my body down  
  
When I hear that trumpet sound  
I’m gonna rise right out of the ground  
Ain’t no grave can hold my body down  
  
Well, look way down the river  
And what do you think I see  
I see a band of angels  
And they're coming after me  
  
Ain't no grave can hold my body down  
There ain't no grave can hold my body down  
_**-“** _Ain’t No Grave_ ” by Johnny Cash

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

“Well, this is about to get interesting real quick,” Lupin muttered under her breath, exchanging a look with Whiplash. The Night Fury crooned so quietly, only she could hear it. Her ears flicked in response.

“You got that right. I’m still trying to process this all.”

Lupin looked up at the source of the voice, spotting Elisa. The other woman gave a short wave. She didn’t look at all upset or disturbed at all that was going on so far. It was as though she was more curious to see how it all panned out. Elisa met Lupin’s mismatched gaze and offered a faint smile.

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say that you deal with weird all the time.”

Elisa nodded, and pointed a finger gun at her in a mock salute. “You got that one right on the head.”

“Hooray. Do I get a cookie?”

“Sorry. Fresh out.”

“Then you’re useless to me, cookie-less woman.”

Elisa laughed quietly. “You don’t seem too bothered yourself. You’ve been here for some time, but how long has it been?”

Lupin leaned on Whiplash and the dragon leaned in right back. She rubbed at the crown of his head when he bumped her elbow, vying for attention.

“Eh…I’ve been…like this,” she said, motioning to her ears and the like, “for a while now. I’m going to refrain from saying how long on that front. For this place, though, it’s been…a couple of months.”

“So, who exactly is responsible for all of this? I have a few theories in mind, but—”

“Look, take what you think you know and who you think it is that’s doing this and just shove it out the window. I’m serious. It’s not anyone you know.”

The other woman looked taken aback, and her face morphed into cautious curiousity mixed with mild peeved surprise.

“But you do know who is behind all this,” Elisa pressed. Lupin glanced at the taller woman, recognizing the glint in Elisa’s eyes, like a bloodhound who had just dug up an especially juicy scent trail.

 _She’s a detective, of course she’s going to be nosy, asking questions_. Lupin paused, her ears flicking at the subtlest sound of a familiar rattling, and Whiplash perked at the same time, his playfulness leaking away from his frame in lieu of attentiveness. She caught sight of Valka, and the Viking woman was watching her, waiting for her to turn her attentions toward her. Lupin cleared her throat and excused herself abruptly from Elisa’s company. She and Whiplash weaved through the clusters of people, each of them clustered around in their own familiar groups. All except for Elisa.

It was nearly dark. They were still waiting for the gargoyle clan, who would no doubt be there as soon as it was dark and they awoke. Elisa made sure of that, by requesting to return to the castle earlier that day when things had all settled and leaving a note for them to find and read.

Lupin joined Valka. The older woman touched the werewolf’s elbow and gently guided her along, well out of earshot of the others. Cloudjumper wasn’t far from the rest of the group, but to alieve the newcomers’ uneasiness with the large dragon, Valka had the Stormcutter keep his distance. She still kept him close at hand, however, just in case. Lupin couldn’t fault her for the reasoning.

A big dragon like that could easily help keep the peace in case things got a little hairy.

The others weren’t as leery of Whiplash, but if they knew about half as much as Lupin did about Night Furies, they probably wouldn’t feel so at ease with Whiplash hanging around either.

“How much longer ‘til the sun sets?”

“’Bout another half hour or so.”

“Are those stone statues truly to come to life as…creatures?”

“Gargoyles,” Lupin affirmed. She thought for a moment, frowning. “I grew up with…let’s call them stories. Getting into what they really are will take time. Anyway, there were all these different stories, different people and characters and creatures, some of them mythical and others not, and it seemed cheesy at the time, growing up and stuff. Now, not so much.”

There was also Hellboy, but she refrained from alliterating a parallel to him, Liz, or Abe. Things were crazy enough as it was.

“So…you believe these stories are coming to life, is that it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

_I wish I could believe that, but now, not so much. Does the fucking “multiverse theory” include fictionalized worlds into its realm or am I just going crazy?_

She didn’t want to linger on the idea.

Fictional or not, it looked like Elisa and the gargoyles, Hellboy and his company alike were here, and they were well and alive and real.

Fictional or not, it looked like they were in need of help.

As reluctant as Lupin was, and as much as she wanted to sit there, rocking back and forth in the fetal position muttering denials, she couldn’t allow herself to fall into that pit trap. She couldn’t turn a blind eye to them, or any of the others in the room with her and Valka. She knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she walked away from them. And as much as she hated to admit it, the twins had found a way to pluck at her goddamned heartstrings. She couldn’t turn away from people who needed genuinely needed help. Fucking bleeding heart. It was going to come bite her in the ass one day, she just knew it.

 _Suck it up, Marine_ , she told herself. _Suck it up and get the mission done._

Lupin parted ways with Valka and started making her rounds with the others, checking up on them. It surprised her how easily she had slipped back into the role of a senior sergeant, checking on her junior Marines.

Sam and Dean Winchester were both tight-lipped with her, aside from snarky remarks and leers and narrow-eyed looks towards her wolfish features. She felt no lost love with that interaction, figuring that coupled with the smell of blood on them and the deeply seated mistrust glittering in their eyes, they were already not fans of her.

_Well, they can go blow themselves, for all I care. So long as they don’t do anything fucking stupid, like try to hurt anyone else._

She moved on, receiving much the same from Kennex and Dorian, although it felt less of a tense reaction from the both of them. It was a few degrees more pleasant chatting them up than the Winchesters. Kennex had a little colour back in his complexion, no doubt thanks to the earlier quick-fix attention she had given his injuries. He’d probably need better aid, but for now, things would hold out. Dorian had been a big help, making note of injuries she couldn’t see on the surface. Kennex seemed less than thrilled at “being scanned again”, but made no further complaints once everything was bandaged up.

When she began making her way toward the trio that consisted of Hellboy, Abe, and Liz, she had to stop at the scene she found herself stumbling upon. It was a bit…well, the only way she could honestly describe it was “cutesy”. Hellboy hovering over Liz, asking her soft questions such as if she was really all right, if anything attacked her or Abe, how she was feeling. She didn’t miss the hand on the belly, either. Abe kept a respectable enough distance; enough to be included, but just far enough away to allow them their own bubble of privacy. When Abe turned his head to glance Lupin’s way, he offered an awkward smile and very light shrug of his thin shoulders, as though to say “What can you do? It’s love.”

Lupin returned the smile with a tight one of her own and closed the distance between herself and the other three. When the couple noticed her, there was once more a less tense atmosphere surrounding them—vastly different from the Winchesters, and yet again, a different mixture altogether from Kennex and Dorian.

“How’re things holding up?”

“You asking because you actually care or because it’s your job to ask?”

“Little Column A, little bit Column B. Take your pick.” Lupin replied breezily to the red-skinned demon. She shrugged when he didn’t respond. She took a steadying breath, letting a moment pass. _I really don’t feel like fighting, I just want to get this done and over with._

“We don’t feel like fighting, either. We would rather prefer to get the answers the easy way,” Abe interrupted, and Lupin snapped her head in his direction, startled and frozen.

_The fuck did he…? Oh. Oh shit. Fucking telekinesis, are you kidding me!_

Apparently, she had forgotten a few things, like Abe’s ability to pick up on thoughts. Wonderful.

She ground her teeth. She hated it when people thought they could read her—emotionally, physically, whatever it was they said they picked up on. Most times, people were wrong about what they thought they knew about her. She made it a point to normally derail what people thought of her. Now, she was feeling predictable because of her temper. But to have someone who could actually dig around in her thoughts?

She was beyond the stage of “I don’t like it”.

Abe seemed to sense this—whether he picked up on her emotional, defensive vibe or otherwise—and quickly rephrased, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to glean anything from you, you’re simply easy to read. Not unlike a lot of people, in fact.”

“Yeah, you eventually get used to Blue just doing his thing. Not much to worry about, unless you were secretly planning on killing somebody. Might ruin the surprise,” Hellboy added in. Liz huffed slightly, almost a laugh but not quiet. There was mirth in her eyes, even if there wasn’t a smile on her lips. Lupin frowned, ears slowly flaring back against her head as she tried to assess what her next move should be.

 _Just…move on. Not much else to do but keep moving forward with this. No backing out now,_ she finally decided.

“Right, well…try to keep your brain scanning to minimum. I don’t like people reading me like that.”

_Or any other kind of reading, for that matter._

Clearing her throat, she motioned to them as a collective once more and reiterated her question on how they were doing. Liz offered a shrug, then a wince and a hand reached for her belly.

“Just…hanging in there, I guess you could say,” she answered. Lupin’s frown remained intact as she looked Liz up and down.

“How far along are you?”

“About…what was it again, nineteen weeks?” Liz glanced at Hellboy, who more or less nodded.

“Something like that. Sounds about right.”

“Might have to dumb it down Barney Style for me, that’s…how many months?”

“’Barney Style’?” Hellboy parroted back quietly, a glint of interest arising in his eyes. Abe waggled a hand.

“Roughly five months.”

“Shit.” Lupin muttered. _Gonna have to get those asshole twins to hurry the fuck up with those fucking pushes for that Silent Sparrow whatever project. And in the meantime, add on “pregnancy shit” to my growing list of shit to ask for. Jesus titty-fucking Christ._

“You army?”

The question threw her off and she blinked, looking back up at Hellboy. Her ears flared back against her head again, feeling mildly offended, before she reined in her snappish response—just in time.

“Marine, actually. Active duty for a little over five years.”

“ _Semper Fidelis_.” Hellboy nodded, a faint look of approval on his face. Lupin was surprised further by that. She nodded in return, wary of the exchange.

“Ooh-fucking-rah,” she replied, which in turn, elicited a broad grin to split the demon’s face.

“You sure sound like one, all right.”

“Damn well better. I been hanging out with the assholes for too long.”

Hellboy looked ready to make another comment, and even Liz appeared mildly interested, but before anyone else could respond the doors to the Meade Hall broke open. Night had eclipsed the world beyond, a great yawning expanse of empty night sky glittering with cold white stars in the distance. Standing upon the threshold were several figures, most tall or broad in stature, but all of them winged.

The Manhattan Clan of gargoyles had arrived.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

It was cold and dark, and the air smelled like damp rock and clay.

It didn’t smell like home and it didn’t feel like his bed. His actual bed, where he could go to every night, in a place that didn’t share in the constant changes with strangers every other day or week. It was a new comfort he was beginning to allow himself to enjoy.

There was a constant, dull roar in his ears ringing away like white noise. It was both soothing and an annoyance. It was perhaps the first thing he noticed at first, before the smells and before the coldness. It was a constant in the background, a sighing rush of something loud and continuous.

Like running water.

Was he in a cave, he wondered? It was dark. Maybe it was night time. As he listened, he could hear faint acoustics of other noises as well. Dripping water into larger pools below. The rumblings of something else, something unidentifiable at first, like a slow and deliberate whooshing of air. It wasn’t the wind, exactly.

Breathing.

Something large and alive was close by.

A part of him was curious. Another part was largely cautious. If it was something large, it could be dangerous. But if it was also something alive, then that meant it possibly was near the exit of this place. He was more than certain that it was a cave now, after touching the bare hard rock beneath his fingers, the cold dampness on his palms, the stagnant air around him.

His worry came to bite him in that moment. He was alone.

He became anxious to know where his brother was and where his fiancé was. Were they here in the same cave as him, in some corner where he couldn’t see them? It was pitch black inside, but he began to slowly scuffle along, carefully feeling out the place, inch by inch. Another pit of worry began to grow in the center of his chest and take root, thorns and all. Who in the hell broke in his home, and stole him away to drop him—and possibly the only two people he gave more than half a damn about—off in this place? What if they were still close by, somehow watching him fumble about in the darkness?

Wild theories flew, but they were shot down just as quickly as they formed.

All he had were theories.

He couldn’t prove anything and until he got out of this place, he couldn’t prove or disprove anything. He couldn’t find out any answers until he was in the clear.

But when he was, he was going to unleash all hell on whoever it was that’s done this.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

 “You expect us to believe that we’re all in some parallel universe to our own _and_ one another’s to boot, and in addition to all that, you’re not a human or android, but some crypto-monster thing? Give me a damn break already.”

_Well, I was honest. Nobody can’t say I didn’t try._

She eyed the skeptical looks on John Kennex’s face, the reserved judgement on Dorian’s, and refrained from heaving a sigh. It seemed he has had a sudden reversal in his train of thought towards her, no longer bound by the “go with the flow” attitude now that things have settled.

The others, however, remained less surprised. Lupin had just finished explaining the situation in which they were all now a part of: Chimera Dynamics, the parallel universes and the multiverse theory proven true, her role on the island, and the truth of her nature. It was too late to hide what she was, and leaving it up in the air as a parlor trick was most definitely not going to cut it with most of the audience before her. She did reassure them all that she didn’t fall into the “eating humans, mindless beast” category of things. It did little to reassure them.

The Winchesters had briefly introduced themselves, stating rather bluntly that they were monster hunters. Monsters of all kinds, ranging from violent spirits, demons from hell, and worse. If anyone named it, chances were they’ve run across it at some point in their lives. It certainly explained their distrust of her right from the get-go, although she still sense a strain between herself and them.

This was only reinforced by Hellboy, Liz, and Abe alike—as their profession for upholding the world from falling into chaos from the paranormal, their lines of works intersected a great deal. Or they used to, until they had all up and quit. There seemed to be a strained sort of mutual respect from the Winchesters towards the former B.P.R.D. agents and vice versa as well.

With the gargoyles and Elisa, it was similar in the respects that they protect their home, each other, and any whom they accept into their tight knit group as well as strangers in distress in New York City. This meant often fighting alongside and against, what Elisa had explained, people who were both allies and antagonistic individuals. They sounded like people who Lupin would have labeled as “frienemies”, if she was being honest.

When Valka offered her bit of history, as well as the obvious state of the island in which they were all now a part of—whether they liked it or not—Kennex and Doran seemed less skeptical.

“So what do we do now? What’s next?” This question came from one of the gargoyles who had introduced himself as Brooklyn. Beak-nosed, rust-red skin, with his wings tucked under his arms and around his front, Lupin knew he’d be much taller and broader than her if he stood up from his crouch. Yet, he was nowhere near their leader’s height, the great behemoth named Goliath, or even Hellboy’s height either.

“Honestly, I’m new at this shit, so I can’t say definitively. Right now, I could set some of y’all up at my place, the rest could hang out here in the village or up at the castle—if y’all are willing. From what I understand and from what Elisa has told me, that castle is yours, so that means the decision’s yours on who stays or goes, too.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

This place was strange.

It was damp and dark. Surrounded by earth. Deep underground. Safe.

It was the perfect place for a nest.

She couldn’t have chosen a better site herself.

But there was the taste of ashes from old fires and new alike in the air, a tinge of blackened timber and scorched rock, of dry and scaly bodies covered in dust and salt and briny waters. That smell was especially strong. It brought back memories of crossing the poison water, trapped in a cage that would not yield to her terrible and powerful weapons: her claws. Stared down at by her favourite prey-animal, mocked from afar with their flat leering ugly faces, and given disgusting meat that she wouldn’t peddle to even the lowest of males in her brood.

She showed them all one night, she and her smaller mate and cub, when she gutted one of her feeders. The three of them ate well on his warm corpse. It had been worth the revenge—and later on, when she had lost her eye, it had been well worth the wait that colluded to her eventual escape.

The poison waters nearly drowned them all, but land was not far off. She had raised a considerable brood over the years, content with their new home deep under the earth. They were fed by their prey-animal with more prey-animal. It was not a terrible trade-off…until the food ran out.

Memory ran fuzzy along there. She was an old creature, but with many more years still to go. She was still strong. She was still a matriarch of her nest. None have dared oppose her and none ever will.

This place was not home. It did not have the aroma of death and decay that she and her kind so cherished. It was not gut-stained and blood soaked. There were no bones of the deceased littering the floors. It was not home…but it could become one, in time.

If only it was not so close to the stink of the poison water.

Perhaps that could be overwhelmed with blood and gore and broken bones and leaking marrow over time.

The great beast sniffed. Her sense of smell was greater than her vision now. She was half-blind. Her preferred prey-animal were clever little things, for something so easily torn apart. They had clever, small paws that were especially quick at devising weapons that could hurt her and her kind. Sharp weapons that were almost as deadly as her barbed claws tipping her hands. Nasty things that smelled of fire and roared like thunder when used against her kind.

She could smell others of her kind. A few juveniles. A few cubs. Only a few adults. They were familiar scent marks. They were of her brood. That was good. They were close, perhaps in another network over. It would not be hard to find her way over. Even half-blind, her vision in the pitch black was much better than a prey-animal with both eyes intact. They were blind and foolish creatures. Easy pickings.

She wondered if the prey-animal had somehow taken them away from yet another home, to stick them in another hole in the ground, a place to feed them anew.

That was not as good.

At least, she surmised, it was night. That was also good. The sun was torment on her flesh. It scorched at the paleness, which would make her look sickly. It was why her kind preferred to hunt at night. Their prey-animal were blind and weak and scared of the darkness. It reminded them of horrors such as herself. Additionally, the gleam of her paleness was preferred in her kind. It meant strong, healthy members that were ready for breeding. She still had many years left in her. She was still strong.

She inhaled deeply once more, reading through the scent marks hanging in the air—and she stopped, clacking her jaws together. Her great fangs, perfect for tearing and ripping flesh from bone and snapping bone apart for good measure, ground against one another as she mulled over this curiousity.

Her curiousity grew into comprehension as she delved past the poison water’s aroma, the stagnation of the dark caves, the coldness of the air.

Her comprehension evolved into glee and hunger.

Prey-animal was close. Very close.

It was time to gather the clan. It was time to hunt.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Lupin could already feel a headache building up behind her temples, a procession of sharp staccato cracks one right after the other like gunshots.

One minute, things were all hunky-dory, plans were being drawn up on who goes where for the night, the next it turned into chaos.

_You were fine five fucking minutes ago, what the fuck changed, you assholes?_

She shot a parting look towards Valka, caught her eye briefly, but then the older woman was drawn back into her fray with one of the gargoyles. Apparently, she didn’t like being called…whatever it was they called her. Frankly, Lupin had only been half-paying attention, her mind already a thousand miles away in preparations for what was needed for the night and perhaps for a short-term length of stay for these people. Which, glancing over at Liz, would include maternity care.

She was only sucked back into things when Whiplash smacked her upside the head with his tail, diverting her attention from scolding him to what was going on in front of her.

 _Wow, way to space out, killer, everyone’s dead now because of you._ It was something she could already hear her Gunny saying, sarcastic and disappointed in her for not being vigilant. She winced, realizing if she didn’t try to step in and help, things could go downhill real fast. Elisa was already trying to play the peacekeeper, as was Dorian and even Abe.

She didn’t fancy seeing things get taken out of hand and anyone get their heads bashed in. Normally she would have been the one to do the head bashing. It was one of her “unofficial” jobs at keeping her Marines in line back in the unit—partly because Gunny Perkins said so, partly because her rank allowed her to.

_Now I’ve gotta put on my diplomatic trousers and not my bashing gloves, great._

James would have been better at this than her. He was always better at the tactful side of things.

She started forward, intent on planting herself between the most volatile of tempers—if someone was going to throw the first punch, it had better be a good one and it would be better if she took the blow instead of someone else. She stopped suddenly, a chill swept down her spine like ice water had been dumped all over her backside.

Abe’s voice, woven in the tapestry of everyone else’s that were raised and trying to be heard, fell quiet. The nighttime crooning orchestra of the nocturnal dragons had suddenly hushed. Lupin’s ears twitched, disturbed by the suddenness of it all, and she felt her heart’s pace picking up. She glanced at Whiplash and then at Cloudjumper, noticing their motionlessness and their silence.

Even Valka had taken note, pressing in closer to her dragon companion and sweeping her eyes questioningly upwards toward Cloudjumper’s face. The Stormcutter made no move nor any indication as to what, exactly, was wrong. There was only silence from the two dragons in Meade Hall.

Silence was never a good thing.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

There was nothing but darkness all around him. It was cold and dank, and there was a faint breeze, and the smell of salt-water hanging in the air. He’s never smelled salt-water before. He’s heard of the sea, of course, but living in a landlocked country limited the scope of the world.

He inhaled deeply, trying to draw a sense of clarity from smell alone, if he could not see. He strained to listen and heard the sounds of water rushing, and dripping, and running. To his back, he could feel uneven stone ground digging into him, hard and uncomfortable. A cave, perhaps. Occam’s Razor often dictated that the simplest explanation was usually the right choice.

He slowly sat up, careful not to rush himself. He wasn’t sure if he was concussed. Relearning how to live like a normal human sometimes meant relearning the maladies a body could suffer. He wriggled his toes and fingers, satisfied that he could feel them all, then checked his arms and legs. He felt no pain and no obvious injuries in his blind probing.

Satisfied once more, he slowly brought himself up to his feet, wobbled on his legs, steadied himself. He focused his senses on his smell and hearing and the feel of cold air gently brushing against his bare arms.

There might be the exit, he reasoned, if he followed the breeze’s source. He shuffled along, glad that he had his shoes on because he stumbled and stubbed his toes on hidden cracks, crevices, and jutting outcroppings. He took it even slower, cursing under his breath when he jammed his foot against yet another obstacle. He didn’t want to think of how badly his toes would be hurt if he didn’t have any protection covering them.

He was more than relieved when he caught sight of the faintest glow of light, but even with his excitement simmering beneath the surface, he tamped it down.

Don’t jump to conclusions just yet, he told himself.

He needed to find his way out, yes, but rushing could lead to bad results. Rushing was usually what his brother often did. Things worked out most of the time, sure, but other times…

Well, his temper matched with his impatient drive were often a volatile combination.

He’d need to keep his head on his shoulders if he was to find everyone.

He stopped suddenly, frozen, a chill rushing over his entire body. It felt like someone was watching him from somewhere in the dark. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation and dread began to trickle into his limbs and muscles. Something was wrong. He quietly cleared his throat, his tongue thick in his mouth.

He debated calling out, then thought better of it. He listened, straining, and then…there. He could hear the hushed, almost silent, intake and exhale of someone breathing.

…or something. It sounded…big. Yet controlled. An animal of some sort?

He wasn’t one to get easily scared, yet something inside him, a primal instinct told him it wasn’t friendly, that it was something to fear, to flee from, a monster lurking in the darkness that was substantial and real. He could practically taste the bloodlust in the air, crackling about invisibly between him and whatever it was that was watching. Whatever it was, it could see him. He didn’t have proof of this, but that same instinct was telling him it was so. It was the same fears a child was held in the grips of when they went to sleep in the dark, afraid of the monsters in the closet or under the bed, and only the light could chase it away.

This wasn’t his bedroom and he wasn’t a child, but it was a familiar feeling holding tight to him now, and he wasn’t going to doubt it.

There was something else in the cave with him, having slipped in under the cover of the darkness and it used the dull ambient roar in the background to mask its approach.

He took one look back toward the faint glow at the end of the cave, his one chance to possibly escape, regroup, format a plan, get his bearings.

He whirled, instinct once more taking over like second nature. He trusted it, just as he trusted his heart to beat and his lungs to breath without conscious effort on his part. He clapped his hands and dropped to his knees, a flash of brilliant light arcing over his form as soon as his palms made contact with the cool stone. He kept his eyes locked upwards, and felt a dash of horror streak through him.

In the brief respite of light, he saw the creature, because that was what it was. Tall and hideously pale like bone, its arms were long and gangly and corded with lean, powerful muscles. It was broad in chest, but had no head. Instead, he saw jet black orbs imbedded in the shoulders, and a grotesque parody of a mouth dead center in the chest cavity. He remembered seeing photographs from a book, once upon a time, when he was a child. The memory was as dusty as the book had been when he and his brother had laid eyes upon it, but he remembered with stark clarity the gaping maw of a shark’s mouth.

That’s what that mouth in the monster’s chest reminded him of: a shark’s mouth imbedded in the chest of what looked like a humanoid beast. It’s teeth were triangular and huge, much too huge for it to even properly close, and he suspected that, like a shark’s mouth, it’s innards were lined with several rows of the killing tools.

Cruelly carved talons tipped its pale hands, like crescent blades and they had been aimed for him. It had no distinguishing marks that gave it a definitive gender, none between its legs or along its frame that suggested anything familiar. It was just a towering humanoid shape, a parody of the human body, warped into a killing machine.

The creature disappeared quickly behind a makeshift, rushed construct of a stone wall, it’s leap interrupted with an unceremonious thud as its body made contact. For a moment, there was only silence. His heart gave a jerk when the creature bellowed its displeasure at being thwarted, smashing into the wall. It wasn’t thick, and it wouldn’t hold for long, but he only needed a short moment to get away.

He turned and fled, heading in the direction of the faint glow at the end of the cave, hoping it was a way out, and an escape to safety.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

“LOCK IT THE FUCK UP!”

Everyone shut up.

Everyone turned to look at Lupin.

Her voice had boomed so loudly, that most were shocked such a large voice could be produced by such a small person. She ignored their stares. She was used to the surprise directed at her. Plenty of male Marines were often left in a similar stupor when she raised her voice, and it wasn’t often enough so sometimes, they simply forgot she could crack down on them with a voice of thunder.

Now it was silent as the grave, and everyone else finally seemed to take notice.

“Is it supposed to be this quiet?” She heard Sam ask across the way. Lupin pursed her lips, glancing at Valka. The Viking woman looked equally troubled.

“No,” she stated outright, confirming their suspicions. “It’s not.”

“What d’ya hear, kid?”

Lupin’s ears twitched at Hellboy’s low baritone voice, slowing her breathing, stretching her senses as far out as she could. Whiplash scooted closer towards the werewolf, his body just as stiff as hers, like an alert big cat who just heard something foreign and new enter its territory. His black ear nubs were upright and still, eyes nothing but wild green and black slits and he was barely breathing himself.

Lupin focused, pushing out all extrasensory distractions in the immediate area: the rush of everyone’s blood pumping; the pounding of their hearts marching along like war drums; the sucking of their breathes into lungs; the subtlest scuffle of boots or claws on stone flooring; the whoosh of the fire burning in the torches…

Instead, she could hear the roaring thunder of the ocean beating against the cliffs; of the soft whispering hush of water sighing along the sandy beaches; the murmur of the wind rattling through the distant forest; the ever-so-slight evidence of large beasts moving about in the village…

She flinched when something new invaded the hush: a voice. Tinny and desperate, it was calling for someone, anyone, to answer him.

Lupin withdrew back, tilting her head toward Whiplash. The Night Fury warbled, shifting his head ever so slightly to incline it to her. He heard it as well. She turned to face Valka.

“Stay here,” she said, and she saw the flare of protest alight itself in the older woman’s eyes. Her grip tightened along her shepherd’s crook and she moved to follow. Lupin stopped, pawed feet scratching on the stone flooring. Everyone else flinched, jerking into motion, looking similarly ready to leap in.

“What is it?”

“Someone’s out there,” Lupin explained, expelling her annoyance and exhaustion from her voice before it could be heard. She didn’t want to snap at Valka.

“You can hear someone out there? I can’t hear anything.”

This remark came from Dean. Lupin turned to face the taller man, giving him a rather poignant, “Are you stupid?” look that said it all.

He shifted on his feet, looking unimpressed and unhindered.

“Well?” He pressed.

She stabbed at the air, motioning to her ears, still holding her annoyed look. Him, she had no reservations stepping over with little restraint. He’s made it fairly clear he had no lost love towards what she was and didn’t seem to bother with who she was.

“Not for fucking decoration.”

“So more people are out there? You might need help rounding them up.”

“Person. Singular. I think I can handle it.”

She felt all eyes on her and on any other occasion, she wouldn’t have felt the pressure mounting.

When she had been on her deployment and tensions were running high, and the air tasted as though a conflict was just right around the corner, she had never felt nervous. Not once. She had barely felt the stab of uncertainty drive its blade into her like it had into her fellow Marines, her leaders and subordinates alike. Perhaps it was the arrogance of knowing she couldn’t really die—not by the conventional knife or bullet and certainly not by the average human in hand-to-hand combat, or even a trained soldier the likes of which she had fought. Possibly it was the confidence in her inhuman status, in the array of advantages she had over her human allies and enemies alike. Maybe it was the faith in her abilities to survive by the skin of her teeth, and to pull everyone’s weight along with her without worry or doubt.

She hadn’t questioned it in the past. She hadn’t wanted to. She simply wanted it to continue helping push her through the combat zones, the firefights, the ambushes, even the doldrums of time waiting in between them all.

Now, she was feeling its full weight crushing down on her, like it was Rusty settling his entirety on her. She was treading in unknown waters and for once, she was uncertain. She felt a pinprick of uncertainty and apprehension and fear worming its way into her system. Lupin was suddenly unsure of whether or not she could help these people and was questioning whether or not she was really the right person for this job, if the twins had wasted their time advocating for her to take this position, only for her to prove them wrong on her abilities to work in these conditions.

Lupin hurriedly put her hand on Whiplash’s head, trying to hide the trembles threatening to consume her limb. She was soothed by his presence, his warmth. She was reassured by the strength of his being there, a silent support she hadn’t known she needed until she reached for him. The werewolf quickly swung herself into his riding saddle.

One of the gargoyles, Lexington, leapt in the way, holding his arms out to stop her and Whiplash.

“Wait a minute, now hold on! One of us should go with you, just in case something really is wrong out there. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve got a pretty bad feeling something big is coming.”

Her gut lurched unpleasantly at the implications, and scenarios bounded through her mind.

Somebody finally fucking said it and it hadn’t been her. She felt a little shame at that, knowing she’d failed in pointing out the obvious: something she prided in when it came to tense situations such as these.

There were murmurs of agreement rippling through the rest of the group and nods from more than half of them. Lupin glanced back over at Valka, seeing the woman was already clambering nimbly up to Cloudjumper’s shoulders. The Stormcutter looked appropriately ready to go himself, his great finned head shaking and trembling in anticipation. He uttered a long, low and deep hiss of displeasure, his great yellow eyes focused on the doors to Meade Hall.

“Aw, fuck,” Lupin cursed quietly under her breath. She jerked a thumb up, using it to point over her shoulder and behind her. “Fine, then. Hurry up and choose, then get up here. We’re wasting time.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

The creature was on his heels. He couldn’t see it, but he could sense it all the same.

It was strong, whatever it was. He wondered briefly if it was a Chimera—a fusion of a human and perhaps some shark to account for its toothy maw, and something else completely that he couldn’t identify. Maybe some type of bird of prey, if he could judge those talons on its hands that it had.

Whatever creature it really was, there was one obvious thing that he could identify it as: it was a predator, through and through. It had the tools of the trade, the raw instinct, the animalistic behaviors of one. It wanted to hunt, it wanted meat, and he was providing an excellent choice for both those categories.

Luckily for him, he wasn’t going to make it easy for the beast.

Even luckier still, he had indeed found the way out of that cave and into the freedom of…well, wherever it was he was at. He’d have time to figure things out, once he coordinated a plan of defense and attack. He needed a place to hole up in, think, calculate his next steps. 

He was hoping for a town.

This place was not what he was expecting.

It was a village, yes, but it was rustic and archaic in design and function.

It was also apparently abandoned.

No one came rallying to him as he cried out for someone, anyone, to open their doors, to admit him inside, to help assemble their defenses against the monster giving chase to him.

_Or maybe I shouldn’t involve anyone. If anything, someone else would get hurt on my behalf. I can’t let that happen!_

He quickly clammed up, realizing he was also giving the beast his location by crying out in this empty place. His voice carried a little too easily to his liking.

He ran on, his lungs burning like fire had been set to them, his legs growing heavy and tired, his head heavy and full of building pressure as the ideas plugged away. His stride was slowing. Ever since he’d returned to his body, he and his brother had been building up his strength. He was almost at full strength, but almost wasn’t completely. He still lagged in comparison, and he was never quite reaching the goals he had set for himself. This was a perfect example of why he wished he had surpassed it long ago, even if he understandably and logically knew that his body needed the time to heal, recuperate, rebuild itself.

He darted between buildings, deciding to throw the beast off his trail—and collided right into it instead.

He jerked away, shoving away as hard as he could, trying to summon back another round of adrenaline through sheer will power. If he had to fight, he’d fight.

All his luster came to a grinding halt, when the body he had collided into moments before uttered an indignant, “Hey!”

He stopped altogether, taking in the sight before him.

It was a woman shorter than him he had ran into, not the towering pale beast from the cave. She had a wild mop of wavy dark hair, donning a sleeveless shirt and blue slacks as her attire. Those were his first impressions before the details began to sink in. Wolfish ears stuttered atop her head, tall and triangular, a bushy tail poking out from her backside, and a pair of paws as her back feet. She took a step forward, her eyes a mismatch of blue in the right, gold in the left, hard yet curious as she regarded him.

_A wolf Chimera…?_

“Hey, man—we heard shouting. Was that you?”

His chest was tight and painful, but with every breath the knot of tension and prickle of discomfort began to ease away. He wished his legs didn’t feel like heavy lead weights, however. He found himself nodding, or he hoped he was. He swallowed, his throat and mouth dry, but he tried all the same to talk.

“Woke up in a cave not far from here. I was...attacked. I don’t know what it was, but it’s out here, hunting me. I managed to throw it off but—”

His thoughts came to halt. What if he had thrown it off his trail, but it went after someone else in his stead? If this woman had heard him shouting and came to his aide, then that meant there were others here as well.

“But what? Spit it out.”

“What if it's attacking someone else? What if its killed them?”

“Pssh. Unlikely. Village ain’t really got any inhabitants, if you haven’t noticed. Just a few new arrivals today, like yourself. Most of them are up in Meade Hall, over yonder. These guys and me, we’re the only ones out here right now.”

At this, the woman motioned behind her, and he took notice of the others for the first time.

He wasn’t exactly comforted at first glance.

One of them was another woman, tall and only slightly older looking, but overall appeared like a normal human. She was dressed in leather and furs, a stylized shepherd’s crook in hand. She offered a tired smile to him, one of comfort and ease, but it was hard to allow that to come over him when behind the woman stood a gargantuan winged creature with big, bright yellow eyes staring down at him. The creature timbered softly, its flat face tilting around until it was nearly upside down.

Standing not far from the two women was a smaller humanoid, winged creature. It had a beaked face, white hair, wore no clothes except a loinclothe and allowed the rest of its skin, red like rust, to remain exposed. A long, powerful tail was coiled behind it—him, he corrected himself. It looked like a male, if he was allowed to judge. The creature offered a wave.

“Hey. How’s it going. Rough night?”

He offered a faint smile, unsure of whether to believe this was truly real life or perhaps this was some kind of elaborate dream. Or nightmare, perhaps.

He took notice of the silent black creature settled beside the wolf-woman last, startled when he noticed the pair of eyes floating midair beside her before realizing they were connected to a physical body. It was smaller and slimmer in build, black as night and coiled like a cat. A very large, scale-covered, wing-limbed cat.

“Focus. Focus. Hey. Eyes on me. What attacked you?”

“Some kind of monster. I’m not sure what. A Chimera, perhaps?”

“Chimera?” The woman growled, and he jumped at just how…inhuman a noise it was. It sounded…wrong. Like the heavy growl of a wolf instead of the grumbly growl of a human.

“I’m not sure,” he pressed stringently, his brow knitting together in uncertainty. “I only caught a glimpse of it before I escaped. It’s out there, though.”

“Uh, guys?” The beak-faced creature started.

“Hang on, Brooklyn.” The wolf-woman said over her shoulder before returning her attention back to him. “Can you describe it?”

“Uh…I think I might be able to help with that.”

“Brooklyn—”

“It wouldn’t happen to be tall, pale, with a mouth full of nasty and no head whatsoever, would it?”

He turned to look at the beaked, winged humanoid creature, curious and surprised at first—before it quickly transitioned into understanding that the creature was staring somewhere else and not at them. He turned to look and felt his heart sink.

The pale beast that had attacked him in the cave was squatting on one of the roofs of the house, its big black eyes set in its shoulders staring intently at them, that horrid shark-like mouth shivering and making its teeth click and chitter against one another. Everyone else turned to look as well, taking note of his distraction.

“What the fuck is that thing?” He heard the wolf-woman spit out. The creature on the roof growled. The black creature beside the wolf-woman growled back, low and deep and from the chest. He was close enough to feel the air vibrate from the noise reverberation alone. It definitely gave him the impression that this was a creature to not mess with, perhaps even more so than the pale headless beast on the roof.

“Why hasn’t it attacked yet,” the other woman asked, her voice quiet and cautious.

“It might be confused. Consider it a good thing,” wolf-woman answered. “Hey, kid, what’s your name?”

He was startled, at first, at being addressed so directly and abruptly. He was too busy keeping his gaze locked on the beast, ready for it to leap into action, that he didn’t answer right away.

His mouth was dry and his throat felt as though sand was scraping along it, but he managed an answer all the same. “I’m Alphonse. Alphonse Elric.”

Wolf-woman sighed and from the corner of his eye, he saw her drawing something from the sides of her thighs.

“Well, then, I suppose it’s great meeting you, Alphonse, despite the current situation. Either way, I think you should step back behind Whiplash there, and let me handle this.”

“Do you really think we’re going to let you do this alone, you’ve got another thing coming,” the beaked-creature interrupted, casting an annoyed glare wolf-woman’s way. Alphonse stole a glance between them all, quick as a wink. The wolf-woman had a pair of knives in each of her hands, both of them almost as long as her forearms. The woman by the giant winged-creature was holding her shepherd’s crook at the ready. The beaked and winged creature was settling into a low crouch, hands splayed out to display the lethal claws at the ends of his fingers.

The black, sleek creature came prowling around him. The pale beast on the roof jerked its body to follow the movement and Alphonse shivered, feeling as though the beast was watching him specifically and solely.

Either it was petty and remembered him spurning its attempts to attack him—or it was a man-eating creature. He didn’t doubt the latter very much, judging by the arsenal of hunting tools the creature had at its disposal.

“All right, then, fine—do what you want. I’ll stitch you up later,” the wolf-woman retorted. With a growl, she turned to the pale beast and raised her voice to a startlingly loud shout, “ _Come on and get it, you ugly sonuvabitch!_ ”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
>  **   
>  _Terminology:_   
>  **_Killer:_ It’s an endearing nickname Marines call one another. There are many like these for us. Devil Dog, knucklehead, and crazy are just a few others we’ve called one another (and I have been called these things as well, since well…I was a Marine for eight years lol).**
> 
>  
> 
> **_Gunny:_ Short for Gunnery Sergeant, an E-7 on the Enlisted half of the Marines. The highest ranks are Sergeant Major and Master Gunnery Sergeant, which share the E-9 slot…unless you’re the Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps, which is the actual highest held Enlisted position (although it’s not a promoted rank, it’s an elevated job and the description is right in the name, you have to be a Sergeant Major to qualify) and like a Highlander, there can be only one.**
> 
>  
> 
> **_Additional Notes:_ Long chapter is long. I’ll try to limit Marine terminology, and what lingual tics there are, I’ll try to explain them to the best of my abilities for y’all.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Also, because I already know not many are going to get the reference of the monsters of this chapter, I’ll spoil that one detail. They are the Anthropophagi, as utilized and described as in Rick Yancy’s horror novel, _The Monstrumologist_. Wonderful novel, great read, and I highly recommend it for anyone who hasn’t looked into, heard of, or read it already!**


	13. Gearing Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: Hahaha—no. I do not, nor will I ever, own any media showcased in this piece of fanfiction. They all belong to their respective creators and owners. The only thing I (barely) own is this piece are the written works and the original characters within it.**
> 
> **Warnings: There will be cursing, violence, mild nudity, blood, gore, and a few other minor things under the rainbow with this fic.**
> 
> **Notes: A second playlist for Crash has been posted to the Crash-Into-You blog on Tumblr! I’ve also taken the liberty of posting a few “meta” headcanon items, and will be doing so from now on, whenever I come across something—both to expand on world building and to include things on an outside level, considering I can’t get everything into a story! And please feel free to ask any additional questions in the ask box on the blog!**

**Chapter Thirteen:  
Gearing Up**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**  
  
_“I’m combat ready!”_ **  
-Penny Polendina, “ _RWBY_ ”**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

To say that everyone was shocked the moment they all banged their way into Meade Hall would have underscored the mood incredibly so.

Brooklyn had one clawed hand gripping tight an ankle of the pale monstrous beast he and the others had just finished off, his other tucked in close, bandaged and bloodied. Lupin was helping drag the other ankle, while her black dragon companion flanked her other side. Valka and her giant of a dragon, Cloudjumper, trailed directly behind them, the young human lad named Alphonse close at her side. He was strangely calm, if only slightly shook, and more concerned on whether he was alone or if his older sibling was trapped somewhere on the island as well.

A few bitter thoughts strolled through his head at that. The kid had barely escaped the caves intact, and would have been torn to shreds if they hadn’t intervened and come upon him.

He shot a side-eyed glance over at the werewolf beside him, feeling an immense well of gratefulness for her fierceness in battle. She was a warrior, just as much as that Valka woman was. And the boy, Alphonse…he wasn’t a helpless bystander, it seemed. He used a form of magic he had called alchemy to combat—most defensive tactics that helped drive the beast where they wanted, with high walls and sudden deep pits that helped them deliver a finishing blow. It was the manipulation of the existing elements, he had explained to them all, as one could not create something from nothing, it was simply impossible.

He was almost inclined to disagree. Brooklyn’s seen many an odd thing over the years, but he managed to keep his comments to himself for the time being. This wasn’t the time for semantics, he reasoned.

Brooklyn almost ducked his gaze when he felt, rather than saw, Goliath’s eyes sweep over him. Already, he could feel the concern and quietly simmering anger roiling off of him, a myriad of questions stirring into action beneath the surface. Elisa, thankfully, beat him to the punch, concern and professional and just…comforting.

“Brooklyn, what happened to your arm?”

“It’s nothing, really. Just a few scratches.”

“That thing isn’t venomous, is it?”

“No,” came the reply. At first, Brooklyn thought the deep-timbered voice had been Goliath’s, but it belonged instead to the red-skinned demon who had introduced himself earlier as Hellboy. His blue-skinned, fishy-faced-looking companion, Abraham Sapien, nodded in agreement. The pregnant human woman of their group, Liz Sherman, pursed her lips, her pale skin going paler still when she took one look at the creature he and Lupin finished dragging inside. Brooklyn dropped the leg he held, and the werewolf did much the same.

The rest of the tattered ragtag groups came circling around: the Winchester brothers Sam and Dean, and then the detective duo John Kennex and Dorian. The Winchesters looked morbidly surprised and interested all at once, while the latter two were simply disturbed.

“What in the name of god _is_ that thing?” Kennex blurted, his brow drawing up tightly together, eyes darting between them all, as though they knew the answer.

“I have no friggin’ idea, but that is a whole lot of ugly. I don’t think we’ve ever ran into something like that, have we, Sammy?”

“Can’t say we have. I think we’d remember something like _that_.”

“It’s an anthropophagus,” Abe piped up. Heads swiveled and eyes shot over to him. The fish-man seemed unperturbed at the sudden pique of interest resting solely on him. He motioned to the monster at his and Lupin’s feet. “May I examine it, please?”

Brooklyn swept himself aside, allowing Abe a better view of the creature and found his eyes straying to the bloodied injuries inflicted upon it: its flesh was tight and sinewy with corded, powerful muscles but a few swipes from his talons and Lupin’s knives alike had rendered them useless. He even managed to score off one of its jet-black eyes, giving the creature issues with sight and depth perception in one fell blow. Where the eye once sat, pristine and whole like a black orb, it was now a destroyed and ravaged bloody socket. One of its arms had been completely ripped off, thanks in part to Cloudjumper’s massive crushing jaws. Blood and mud stained its pristine hide, while scorch marks from Whiplash had done a good hint of damage as well. The killing blow had come from the werewolf across from him however.

She was sneaky, quick, and a pintsized powerhouse that had ripped a hole through its spine and into the back of its throat, rendering it lifeless. This was the injury that Abe was drawn to first and foremost. Its jaws were gaping open, locked that way in its death throes, revealing the flagstone flooring below, bloodied and stained red. Hellboy came alongside him, his mere presence demanding room.

Brooklyn was in no way an insecure gargoyle. He drew strength from his clan, and could operate fine on his own, but standing next to Hellboy was as though he was standing beside a secondary Goliath. He was an immense being, one that rivaled some of the largest gargoyles, including Goliath, in terms of height and size.

“It looks young,” Hellboy inputted, squinting his yellow eyes at the corpse.

“You’ve dealt with these things before?” Dean asked, circling around to get a better view. Sam came around the other way, dark eyes intense and curious as the four huddled around the beast that Brooklyn and the others had taken down.

“Once or twice,” Hellboy answered. “They come from, ah…Africa. Known man-eaters. That’s the literal translation of their name. And that’s literally all they eat. They were known as the “people-eaters” or “headless cannibals”. Depending on where they were living at, locals thought they were demons or spirits, sometimes they’d leave a sacrifice out for ‘em every week or two, to appease the monsters. Some eventually ended up having to go out and raid other villages so they’d quit sacrificing their own and just throw someone else to these guys. Nasty bastards. Look at those teeth, would ya?”

“Very powerful. They have very sensitive jaws, not unlike that of a crocodilian. You get too close and so much as brush against their teeth, it becomes like a bear trap. Only instead of immobilization...” Abe trailed off, motioning to Hellboy.

“You lose a limb. We’ve come across a few of these guys who’ve lost their own limbs cleaning each other’s teeth out before. Not a cushy ritual, I’ll tell ya that much.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Glad I punched him in the back instead of the front.” Lupin piped up, startling the Winchesters. It seemed they had forgotten about her being close by.

“This was you?” Abe replied to Lupin, surprised as he motioned to the injury at the back of the creature’s throat.

The werewolf held up a hand, covered in bloodied grime and gristle and gore, her expression flat as she regarded them all.

“Not the most conventional way to kill them, but…it did the trick. For this one, at least.” Abe tipped his head in a shake, his shoulders in a shrug as he continued his examinations.

“I don’t like the way you said that,” Elisa interrupted. “You make it sound like there’s more of them.”

“Oh there’s no doubt there are more. They like dark places, away from sunlight. Their skin is sensitive, that’s why they’re so pale. They’re nocturnal hunters by nature, which is all the more perfect for them. You, there. Your name is Alphonse Elric, correct?”

Alphonse jumped at being addressed, his grey eyes going wide briefly as he nodded. “Yes, but how did you know that?”

Brooklyn thought on that himself. No one had said the boy’s name out loud or introduced him yet. How had Abe known anything about the boy at all?

“Not important right now, kid. What is important, is where you came from.”

“I woke up in a cave. I was close to the entrance, that’s how I got out so quickly. This…anthropophagus had attacked me before I left. I managed to escape it, but it obviously followed me.”

“Or one of its little nest mates followed you,” Hellboy added with a sneer.

“How do you kill one of these things? The right way, I mean, if this handiwork is the unconventional way?” Dean pressed, glancing over his shoulder to look at Lupin as he said this. She flipped off her middle finger at him, her lips tugging in a tight, sardonic smile. Brooklyn heard Broadway and Lexington stifle a few snickers and he himself had to practically glue his beak shut at that.

Human gestures and their meanings have grown rather crude over the years. To be fair, however, they hadn’t been any better back when he had been living in Castle Wyvern a thousand years ago with the Scotsman and their ilk.

“Wait, back up, hold on a minute. You guys are talking about taking on these things on, in their own territory, at its prime time of hunting hour?”

“Well, yeah. I mean…that’s what we do. It’s kind of our job,” Dean shrugged. Sam’s lips quirked into a not-quite-frown and he nodded in agreement.

“It was our job as well, before we…well, we quit, Red.”

“Right, right, we did, didn’t we?” Hellboy sighed, his eyes sliding towards Liz and he smiled, offering a wink. Her smile was fleeting when it was returned, but it was there all the same. Then it vanished just as quickly, her brow pinching in worry.

“Wait, they’re right. You’re not going out after these things, are you?”

“Liz, relax. We’ve taken these bad boys down before. They’re not that bad. Easier to smash into the ground than those Sammael hellhounds, anyway. And best part, they don’t come back.” Hellboy rolled his shoulders, and his red stone hand, causing it to grind loudly.

“The nest needs to be taken out, if there is one. And you, kid. If your brother’s smart, he’ll keep quiet as he can in those caves. If he’s still alive, we’ll find him.”

“You still haven’t answered my question. How do we kill these things?”

“Easy. For one, they hate fire. We can trap them that way. Another thing, they don’t have a head, so that eliminates head shots.” Hellboy motioned toward the V-section between the creature’s legs. There were no distinctive genitals that marked its sex, it was all smooth pale flesh, like that of a doll. It was a little more than disconcerting, and it showed on most everyone’s faces. Hellboy was the only one who grinned.

“The brains for these things is right there, center stage. Between the legs.”

“You’re telling me that you can kill these things with crotch shots?” Lupin gaped, looking suddenly pleased. The men closest to her shifted uncomfortably, scuffling a few inches away from her and her wicked grin. “Shiiiiit. Why the fuck didn’t you say so in the first place?”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

There was a chill in the air and a sour taste carried along with it. The taste of death and blood, of carnage and savagery. It was a scent that was exuded by many a predator that has had the taste of human flesh one too many times and carried with it an aura of hatred.

He has felt this air before, tasted it in the heart of their dens as he hunted them. Wolves and bears, mostly, but that of the mountain lion and their smaller cousins the bobcat as well.

He extended his senses out, pressing them to their limits and the world around him was no longer pitch black. The shadows came into stark relief of grey, details somewhat grainy but manageable to discern. He saw nothing alive scurrying about him, but that did little to comfort him. He could sense the air of a predator lurking nearby all the same.

He lifted himself to his feet, feeling all his extremities to be in perfect function while doing so. He kept his tread soft and silent, not wanting to attract whatever it was he could sense to his location. He couldn’t recall finding his way to this place. His memory was muddled and fuzzy, like he was trying to swim through rubbery gruel. Or the bone-chilling icy waters of a winter lake, stabbing deeply into his limbs and making them sluggish in response. That’s how it felt trying to muddle through, physically and mentally alike.

He lurched forward, slow and steady, gaining some strength and confidence with each step as he moved. He noticed the pale glow of light, at the end of the cave he was. He stopped, however, at the slight of scuffling, dropping low on instinct. Something else was in the cave and the flare of hostility surrounded its body. It was a beacon of red in the dullness of the cave. It was crouched low, looking unlike anything he’s ever seen in his life.

Headless, humanoid in shape, with a gaping maw settled in the middle of its chest cavity, with long and gangly front limbs tipped in deadly talons—he knew the sight of a predator on sight, even if this one was new to him. It was sitting still, watching him, assessing. Perhaps it believed him to be blinded in the darkness, waiting to strike when he least expected.

He began moving again, this time, keeping his eye on the creature. It shuffled closer, silent as the grave. When he stopped, so did it. It was toying with him, he realized. Waiting to strike when his back was turned, and it was going to hit him hard with those flesh-rending claws it had. Tear him apart like a bear did a fish, without remorse or thought or mercy.

He reached for the pouches at his belt, the blow dart at his other side and carefully plucked a dart from the pouch. He combined the two and aimed it at the crimson-lit creature. It stirred, quiet as ever, that horrid mouth it had opening and closing. He was quick to puff out the dart and it struck true. The creature let out a startled noise, lunging for him with such speed, he almost didn’t duck in time. He could feel the weight of its body sail past him as he leaned out of the way, the heavy force of its passing. He didn’t waste time in turning on his heel, careful not to disrupt his vision. If he moved too quickly, it would close out and he would be cast into the darkness once more.

The creature, whatever manner of beast it may be, was no longer remaining silent. It screeched, loudly and at length, but its voice was slowly turning to a gargle as the poison dart did its work. It moved without coordination, stumbling about like a drunkard as it lost collective function of its limbs.

He moved quickly, slipping between the thin crack where he saw the light streaming from the end of the cave. He barely managed to wriggle his way through, it was a tight and almost claustrophobic passage. The next cave network was brighter, he noticed right away. There were cracks in the stony ceiling, scraps of moonlight feebly making their way inside.

He was more than surprised to find someone else lying on the floor once he took full stock of his surroundings, ensuring that none of those strange beasts were around. It was a woman, he first noticed. The second thing he took note of was her strange garb. Her dress was short in length, the skirt coming down barely to her knees, while her shirt was sleeveless, leaving her arms bare. Her feet were covered in ankle high black boots, well-worn and used. Her hair was pulled back from her face, but other than that, it was simple and out of the way. He made his way over, careful to muffle his steps. Gently, he crouched down and checked to see if she was still alive.

Her breath ghosted against the back of his hand, and when he checked her pulse at her neck, it was going strong. She was merely asleep, or knocked out. Either way, he couldn’t leave her for the beasts. He began to scoop her up, careful and quiet, only to stop with one hand halfway under the backs of her knees, the other on her lower back. She groaned softly, shifting in a little closer toward him.

“Ed…? Is that you?”

He pursed his lips, debating whether to answer or not. If she screamed because he wasn’t who she was expecting, it could bring more of those beasts upon them. Something told him, deep down, that these things—whatever they may be—were pack hunters. There were more, he could feel it in his bones.

“No. I am not Ed. But I am here to help. I’m not going to hurt you, I can promise you that,” he said softly. The woman immediately skittered away from him, a tight little gasp building up in her throat.

“Who in the hell are you and why the hell are you touching me?” She spouted off, and he winced at how loud it sounded bouncing off of the sonorous rock walls. “And where the hell am I? Did you bring me here.”

“Please,” he started, lifting his hand to placate her, then dropped them after remembering she could not see in the darkness as he could, “I am not here to harm you. But you must keep quiet. There are creatures hunting us.”

Her breath hitched and she fell quiet.

“Creatures? What kind of creatures?”

“I…I cannot say,” he answered, half-truthfully. “But I do know that they are predators and if they hear us, they will find us and they will kill us.”

She seemed to consider this.

“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

“You don’t. All you can do is trust me for now. We will need to work together to get out of here.”

Another moment of silence and he was grateful for that. Silence meant survival. For now.

The woman shifted and slowly pushed herself to her feet, the incandescent light surrounding her in his vision showing her face morphing into uncertainty.

“What’s your name?”

“Connor,” he answered, the name rolling off of his tongue with practiced ease. It was not his given name, the one his mother and his village had once called him. It was the name forced on him by Achilles, his late mentor, but it was a name that has helped him traverse the world and culture that was not his and it has served him well over the years.

“Connor,” she repeated, as though mulling over it. “I’m Winry Rockbell. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he said, nodding. He stepped closer, reaching his hand. “Let us find a way out, Winry. The sooner, the better.”

“Right. I think I’d rather not end up living in a cave, hiding from monsters, for the rest of my life.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

“Holy fucking shit, just who is that you work for again?”

From the moment she led the hunting party to her house to the very second she opened up the armoury in her basement, she saw the transition from beady-eyed scrutiny change into slack-jawed glee.

The Winchesters especially were incredibly appreciative as they waltzed through the heavy metal door without hesitation. Hellboy ducked through the door, Abe on his heels, and Valka not far behind. The older woman looked around with reserved judgement on her face, but there was quiet awe deep in her green eyes as she took in the sterile environment.

“Where are the swords? The battle axes? The bows and arrows?” She finally asked, turning toward the werewolf. She lingered by the doorway, watching as the hunters raided her stash of weapons. Already, she was accounting for everything in her head, and wondered if she should play armourer or not.

 _Not like they can steal from me, I’ll find the things if they try,_ she finally decided.

Lupin turned back to Valka, shaking off everything else.

“We don’t normally use swords in the modern day, Valka. We still rely on things like knives and bows, although those are used mostly for hunting or sport, not for war. Axes…they’re more for chopping up wood and stuff, although I guess they could have other uses.”

“Yeah, like taking vampire heads off,” Dean called back, shooting a grin towards the two women as he held a hunting rifle in hand. Lupin caught sight of the name engraved on the buttstock and hid a smile of her own. A Winchester toting a Winchester. How _adorable_. Even that stupid grin of his was somewhat endearing, now that he wasn’t leering suspiciously at her.

“And swords still have uses in paranormal hunting cases, actually.” Sam piped in as an added afterthought, shrugged his shoulders.

“I could tell ya about the time I had to carry around this old katana in an alternate universe where it was still medieval Japan with their kinds of demons and monsters. Crazy shit,” Hellboy chimed in, perusing through a case full of pistols. His tail lashed back and forth in agitated arcs. “Kid, you got anything that might fit this?”

He reached over in his holster and hoisted out his Samaritan. “I’m a lousy shot and I don’t have many rounds on me. Big bullets can only get me so far.”

“Back wall has all kinds of ammo, last I checked this place. You might luck out, but I don’t think I have anything for a fucking cannon, sorry.”

“How loud are those things?” Valka pressed. Lupin glanced back at the woman, surprised. She thought for a moment, canting her head to the side.

“Uh…guys? Find silencers, if you can. Back wall, same as the ammo,” Lupin added as an afterthought. “If they can fit the rifles, use ‘em. If not, find something that will.”

“Who the hell supplied you all this gear, again?” She heard Sam call over to her. She could hear the disbelief and the message hidden between the lines: there was no way she could have afforded this on her own. And, even with her decadent puffed up paycheck while on deployment, she couldn’t afford even a quarter of the ammo, let alone some of the weaponry in this place.

“Those fucking pricks at Chimera Dynamics, who else?”

She caught the look on his face from the corner of her eye—the sudden freeze in his movements, the lift of his brows, the slight close of his lips as he straightened up. The others slowly followed his example, stopping in their enthusiastic movements, heads turning, eyes staring. There was judgement in their gazes and it made Lupin’s skin itch and crawl.

A small rise of annoyance rose up to greet the discomfort head on.

_Go ahead and stare and judge me. Go ahead. Say something. I fucking dare you._

Nobody said anything for what seemed an eternity, Dean spoke, blinking a few times as he did.

“So, the people that are responsible for this—for doing this to us, for us being here—they’re the ones that are stocking us up?”

Lupin’s jaw tightened, a retort already lined up to snap back, but the sudden hand on her shoulder stilled her. She glanced over at Valka, still standing beside her, noted the worry in her green eyes and the fire inside her simmered. She turned back towards the group again, wary in keeping her venomous remarks in check as she chose her next words with care.

“Unfortunately,” she answered after another moment’s consideration. “But unless you feel like going at these things with your bare fists, you might want to suck it up and just use the damn things.”

There was a moment of silence, of contemplation, that passed between them all. Words that might have been slung her way or theirs were swallowed back down…thankfully enough.

“…fair enough, I suppose. Only guy who can hit them with their bare fists and get away with it is probably this guy right here, huh?” Dean grudgingly admitted, tipping his head in a nod towards Hellboy. The demon went back to rifling through the ammo cabinets, snorting a soft laugh.

“I dunno. Kid over there probably has some moves, so don’t count her out yet. Werewolves I came across can be nasty when they wanna be. I’m guessing she’s got the same disposition.”

“Gee, the love and support I feel in this room is overwhelming. Please, stop, before you make me blush,” Lupin remarked dully with a flat toned voice. She turned to Valka, pulling her aside closer toward the door. “I have an idea, but I’ll need your permission first.”

“Since when do you ever need permission to do anything? You always seem to do as you wish,” the older woman said in a dry tone, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Lupin huffed softly.

“Normally, when it only ever involves me, but this includes the dragons helping out.”

Valka fixed Lupin with a reproachful stare. Lupin held up her hands, motioning for her to wait.

“Just hear me out. If you don’t like it, well, I got another plan. Not as good, but it’ll work. First things first, though…is there a map of the cave networks on the island?”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

“Here it is. Hiccup did this years ago, he told me.”

“Jesus, he’s had his hand in every cookie jar when it came to building, didn’t he?”

Valka beamed with quiet pride. “He’s one of the best things to happen to Berk. It just took the village time to realize it. It takes time for most Vikings to adjust to change.”

“Apparently, not that much with dragons.”

“It wasn’t an overnight transition, true, but from the tales he’s told me, things went smoother than even I would have expected.”

Lupin allowed a quiet pause to settle between them. “You must be proud of him.”

“I am.”

Lupin paused again, longer this time, before she turned back to the table with the map before her and Valka. She swept a hand along, pushing out a crease in the corner and setting a heavy mug on it to keep it pinned. Another mug took the second top corner.

“Okay, so this…okay, wow. Big. That’s gonna be my first thought.” Lupin pinched her lips into a frown, her brow tightening a little as she scanned the hand drawn map. The parchment crinkled under her fingertips as she traced a hand over some of the deeper chambers, then back to the ones where she knew the dragon stables were located in the cliffs. “There’s a reason he didn’t go any deeper into the network than he has. Isn’t there?”

“The chambers closer inland are a little more unstable, if you can believe it. He didn’t want to risk anyone, dragon or Viking, to get hurt. The ones closer to the coast were large enough for the stables.”

“That might be our ticket then.”

“What?”

“A cave in. Crush these fucking things under rocks, or trap them ‘til they starve out and die. Any stragglers that escape, we flood them out where we want. Chokepoints. Shoot ‘em up.”

“Do you think it will work?”

“It’s going to have to. They’re a threat, Valka. They’re not gonna look at me like I’m a chicken dinner, they’ll be too busy drooling over you or the Winchesters or someone else. They eat _human_ beings. What happens if the village of Berk comes back one of these days and those things are still around? Would you want them to tear your people apart and eat them for good measure?”

“I can see your point. The adults might stand a chance in defending themselves, but the children…the elderly…”

Even if they were warriors, it didn’t mean they didn’t have softer spots in the community, ripe for exploitation from an outside source. And what few human beings there were here, almost half of them were either incapacitated or injured in some way. They had plenty of nonhuman entities to make up for those lost numbers, yet Lupin was right.

Leaving those creatures around would be unwise. They were dangerous. The knowledge from the more experienced hunters alone was enough to go by. The unprovoked attack on the young man they had found and rescued, Alphonse, was another tally to add against them.

“How do the dragons fit in?”

“I take a small crew of them with me after we cave their main nest in. Smoke out the stragglers to our choke points. I think our best bets are here and here. Two teams hide up high, where these things can’t get at them. We lay out some Nightmare spit and when they step over that threshold, light the spit up and trap them in a ring of fire to keep them from retreating back into the caves for good measure. Hellboy said they hate fire. We can trap the stragglers that way, keep them from getting away.”

Valka mulled over the idea, her brows pinched together in concern as she hunched over the detailed maps, her lips pulled into a hard frown.

“What if these creatures fight back?”

“I doubt it, but if I take Whiplash with me, we can keep them at bay. You told me Night Furies have a specialized roar that’s almost like how bats see in pitch black, right? That’s how they’ll see.”

“And you?”

“I can already see in the darkness.”

“Of course you can.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask for it, I just utilize what I have.”

Valka smiled softly and laughed quietly, kindly. There was still a depth of worry growing deeper in her eyes, however, a part of her that didn’t look quite convinced by the plan. She was trying to find the flaws, Lupin knew, trying to play Devil’s Advocate, even if she wanted to go along with it. Somebody had to, Lupin recognized. If everyone with every single plan without voicing concerns, perhaps the human race might have died out a long time ago. Or maybe revolutions and victories that had happened in the past never would have if the naysayers got their way. It was a thin line.

“Look…I know that it’s not the most solid plan. If we had more time, I’d probably advocate for something better, like going down in the day. Hellboy was saying that these things are nocturnal and sleep during the day. But I can already smell the bloodlust in the air. They like to kill and they like to kill violently. The more we argue or nitpick plans, the closer those things get to finding their own way out of those caves and setting up their ambushes. The sooner we get rid of them, the better. And even if we wait until daylight, they’ll have that much longer to learn the cave networks, to avoid us completely.”

Lupin took a pause, hesitating on her next words. Valka sensed her faltering and shook her crook at her, clucking her tongue. “Well? Go on. Say what you want, you’ve already done as much, might as well finish,” the older woman chided.

“I…I think you should go with the others. To the castle. It’s fortified. Defendable. Safe.”

The moment the words left Lupin’s lips was the moment she regretted saying them. Valka’s demeanor changed from relaxed to tense, her usual countenance morphing into quiet simmering rage that could easily match that of any dragon’s.

“You think I need _protection_? I am not some wilting flower of a woman who feels she has to cower behind stone walls while the men go out and fight to the death! I refuse to hide and let them have all the glory, especially when you yourself will be out on the frontlines, battling these beasts! What kind of woman do you take me for?”

Lupin, briefly, was shaken at her tone and taken aback. In that moment, she was briefly reminded of herself, younger perhaps but herself nonetheless. Wanting to show that she wasn’t to be overlooked just because she was a woman, that just because she didn’t dangle between the legs didn’t make her any less valuable in a fight or as a team member of some sort. She knew what it was like to be looked at as a lesser than a person. She couldn’t say she knew much about Viking culture, that the most she could say she surmised about things was that the men and women were fighters alike. From the way Valka had reacted, she was used to standing at the front lines, protecting what was hers with just as much vigor and violence as the men of her culture, her village.  

 _But this isn’t about protecting her because she’s a woman. It’s because these things will_ eat _her just for being human. At least from the stories she’s told me, the dragons rarely ever ate humans, not unless they were starving, but these monsters thrive on a diet of human flesh. This isn’t a matter of starvation for these things._

She swallowed, trying to choose her words with care, but failed to see any way she could do it without offending Valka any further than she already has.

“I...I just don’t want to see you get hurt by those monsters, Valka,” she finally went with, her shoulders slumping and ears slowly coming to rest against her head. In return, Valka’s tense frame was drained of its energy, surprise flitting through her green eyes, conflict arising fairly quickly as she studied Lupin intently.

“I can understand your reservations, considering that we’re not the same. I may be human, but I am not helpless. I have never thought of you as such, and I never would have, even if you were human, Lupin.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

Valka exhaled slowly, nodding to her. “I know you didn’t. We come from two different worlds. It makes sense our way of thinking or doing things would collide eventually.” The older woman remarked, a shrewd smile flickering across her face. It faded just as quickly as she turned to scoop up the bundle of parchment. “Come. We still have much to do and the sooner we tell the others, the better prepared we’ll all be.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

“This is insane. Your plan is insane.”

“You got anything better than “wait for morning” or “go in during the day”, then wow me with something else, because I’m all ears.”

“Very funny.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be _my_ line, Dean? Especially with ears like mine.”

The assorted monster hunters looked completely out of place among the eclectic design of all the décor of…well, Lupin was still hesitant to call it “her” house. She was still resistant to the idea, even with her occupying space in the place. Labels aside, it was still a strange sight: grubby clothes, gruff faces, itchy fingered and trigger happy, they were all ready to go. It just clashed with the dark slate grey sleek lines of the couches; the thick dark draperies that were currently drawn back; the cleanliness of everything and unused state of any of the furniture—even the fireplace had yet to be used. It didn’t smell of wood smoke and ash and fire, it smelled of stone and metal.

Everything about all this felt odd. These were men who, on any other basis, would have been rallying their weapons and hunting skills to turn on her, rather than help her. Thoughts of oddities pushed aside, she poked studiously at the map spread out on the heavy oak coffee table, her lips thinning as she assessed everyone with a careful yet sharp gaze.

“Does anyone have any ideas beyond what I got cooked up? Anything at all?”

“It ain’t the greatest plan, I’ll be the first to admit that. But leaving them to sit around until during the day gives ‘em time to learn, like you said a minute ago. The longer we leave ‘em, the harder it’ll be to drive ‘em out.” Hellboy remarked, giving her a level stare that she felt it wouldn’t be wise to break off from. There was a seriousness that radiated off the demon entity, and another revelation of a strange thought popped up in her head in that moment, in spite of the gravity of the moment. _Monsters and monster hunters working together to hunt other monsters, it’s all weird._

There was a flicker of movement at Hellboy’s side, where Abe stood, and she could sense his black-eyed stare on her. She kept her gaze locked with Hellboy’s instead of glancing away.

“We can’t let any of them get away, you understand this, right? If this is a full-fledged nest that got dropped down on this island, there’s gonna be these monsters of all ages in these caves. Even a young cub is deadly to a full-grown human. It’s the matriarch I’d worry about the most, though.”

“The matriarch? Like…a queen of a hive?” Lupin pressed, the corners of her mouth pulling down.

“Almost, but not quite. Anthropophagi do not have a hive mind, but they do revolve their hierarch around a ruling female and the only one that is allowed to breed. She is usually the biggest one and the strongest of the nest.” Abe answered, garnering everyone else’s attention as he shuffled forward a bit to be seen.

“How big do these matriarchs get?” Sam interjected. Dean and Lupin nodded, curious, as they regarded the icthyo sapien. Abe wobbled his hand in the air, and ticked it over to the side.

“The average Anthropophagi tops about seven feet tall, and each one has about three thousand teeth each, and their claws are barbed hooks, so escape is slim once you’re caught. I suspect this nest may be sizeable, so that lowers odds to nothing.”

“How sizeable?”

“Mm. Around twenty to thirty individuals. That’s roughly the average, if they’ve been together for a long time. And they’re incredibly territorial, even the cubs. The matriarch will be bigger, by a small margin. Perhaps about eight to nine feet tall.”

“Oh, is that all?” Dean snorted. “Anything else we should know, like shooting lasers out of their eyes or that they have acid blood we should watch out for?”

“No, nothing that extreme. Although they can leap about forty feet in the blink of the eye, so…stay sharp. They’re incredibly fast. Faster than either of you could hope to react to, if you’re in close combat.” Abe added as an afterthought and another shrug. “Shooting from a distance, however…you might stand a chance. Being up higher than them can help. They’re not all that intelligent, but they are aggressive and they’ll try, but most likely won’t succeed in getting to you if you’re out of reach.”

Abe turned his attentions to Lupin, giving her a tiny nod. “Your idea isn’t perfect, but as it’s been pointed out, the longer we wait around, the more likely they are to learn of their new environment all the quicker. It gives them time to adapt. The others can remain in the castle for now, it’s safe. The walls are high and the stone walls are thick. I have a suggestion to add to your plan: have other dragons stationed at other cave network openings, to limit where these creatures can go. If they try to escape, use their firepower to drive them back to where you want, to the chokepoints you’ve selected. The stone in the island will make it impossible for them to dig, so they won’t have that advantage going for them, either.”

There was a round of grudging assurances that they’d have to go along with the plan, as it was the only one any of them had at this point. It was sound enough, for the time being. Valka stated she’d help round up the dragons and post them at cave entryways, before it was too late. She was gone and out before anyone could argue. Lupin stared over her shoulder, worry making her gut churn unpleasantly, yet she kept quiet.

 _Valka can take care of herself,_ she thought. _Cloudjumper is with her. He won’t let anything happen to her. He’ll keep her safe if things get out of hand._

“You ever hunt monsters like this before, kid?”

The werewolf turned at the sound of Hellboy’s voice, looking at the demon in mild surprise at being addressed. She saw everyone else was staring at her, saw them sizing her up in that moment. Each of them, with the exception of Abe, were armed to the teeth. She herself had her own weapons, and yet at the same time, she felt grossly uncomfortable. She realized she had experience in being a monster, yet very little of it in actually hunting other monsters.

“No.” Lupin finally answered. “But I’ve tracked down something pretty fucking terrible before.”

“Oh yeah? And what was that?”

“The fucker who turned me into what I am today.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

The village was quiet, as it always was, except for the tension that was strung taut and electric in the air, ready to snap at the slightest give. The dragons that usually lounged amongst the rooftops and bowers of the houses were absent. Even the waves crashed against the beach shores and the cliffs seemed muted, hushed, waiting.

The entire island was holding its breath, it almost seemed like, waiting for the infestation of invading monsters to be wiped out before it could relax. Lupin, from the backside of Whiplash, could see little gaggles of dragons flowing through the air around the village and further out as they landed. She caught a glimpse of x-shaped wings flapping higher up in the sky, could just barely hear the bangle-jangle of Valka’s shepherd’s crook in the distance as she guided this dragon or that to this place or that. The others had declined a ride by dragon—Dean being the most adamant on refusing by far, and Lupin could practically taste the aviophobia wafting off his frame—and instead took to hiking on foot to the village.

A flicker of movement off in the distance caught Lupin’s eye, rising up into the air from Castle Wyvern.

With a gentle enough squeeze through the saddle, Whiplash took to the signal and halted, pumping his wings to hover as the shapes grew closer. It was the gargoyle clan, she saw, making their way closer toward the village. Another squeeze of her knees and with her leaning flush against the saddle, Whiplash understood the context without words: dive down. He went down rapidly into a nosedive, spiraling about in lazy arcs before yanking his wings open at the last moment to flutter them as he came to land on the rooftop of an especially large homestead. The gargoyles changed their direction to follow and landed together in a semi-circle around the werewolf as she slid off saddle.

Lexington crept closer toward the Night Fury, curiousity and a wide grin written so clearly on his face.

“We didn’t even see you guys until we got real close! How do you do that?”

“Night Furies blend well into the darkness. Valka’s said that Hiccup told her about them, when the dragons raided the village before they became a part of it. How you could never see them coming when they attacked. You could only hear them and even then, it was seconds before they struck.”

“I would hate to imagine such creatures trying their luck against us a thousand years ago, if that be true. We might not have had the same luck fighting against the raiding Vikings that came upon us and the humans who lived in the castle,” Hudson mused as he eyed the black dragon, stroking his beard. Whiplash barely paid the older gargoyle any mind, his focus busy on that of Lexington’s curious talons inching closer. He showed off his gums in a smile, allowing the gargoyle to scratch at his chin.

“Have you a plan to fight these…monsters? The anthropophagi?” Goliath interrupted. The werewolf turned to him and nodded.

“Yeah. Valka and I got the diagrams to show the cave networks that Hiccup had mapped out. She’s stationing dragons at various entryways, while the others are getting into position at two other openings, but we’re also going to need Monstrous Nightmare spit to top things off.”

“What’s Monstrous Nightmare?” Brooklyn replied curiously and Lupin took pause at that before realizing, well, of course he would ask that. Why would she assume they knew what Monstrous Nightmare was versus a Gronckle?

“Ummm. Right. You guys haven’t been here long enough to know that. I can—I can take care of that. I’ll need to gather the rest of the Night Furies before I head in, too.”

“Heading in? In where?”

“The caves.”

“You can’t be serious!” Broadway gaped, his eyes widening.

“Night Furies have a specialized roar, like echolocation, that allows them to navigate in pitch black and low-light settings that even their eyes can’t operate under. I can see in the pitch black.”

“Then what will we be doing?” Goliath asked, his expression grim as he assessed the small werewolf.

“Split up and protect the two teams that will be guarding the chokepoint exits. Me and the dragons go in, we drive them out and trap them in the ring of Monstrous Nightmare spit and set it on fire, keeping them from escaping. Our hunters—Sam and Dean, Hellboy and Abe—they’ll be taking shots at them to take them out. Valka will be colluding with the dragons, making sure stragglers don’t escape.”

“Oh, is that all?” Hudson remarked with a thinly veiled layer of sarcasm dripping from his tone.

“Look, it ain’t the best plan, but at least it is a plan. It’s better than the alternative of waiting around for daylight. And the more we debate about this, the less likely we’ll get this done right the first time.” Lupin pursed her lips before pressing in a less stringent tone, “Is everyone else safe inside the castle?”

“Yes, they are. If these creatures cannot climb stone ramparts as these hunters were claiming, then they should be well off. Elisa is making sure of that.” Goliath replied with a curt nod.

“Good.” Lupin said with a nod, feeling relief flood her momentarily. “Before I forget, the cave entrances are over on that ridge, and the other is over there, close to where we found Alphonse.”

“I know where that is,” Brooklyn offered with a nod.

Goliath growled low and softly before he dipped his head in a single shake. “Very well. If that is the plan the others have agreed upon, then we will assist. Brooklyn, Lexington, Broadway—you will assist at the cave near the village, where you found the boy. Hudson, you and I will take the cave near the ridge.”

“Got it. C’mon guys.”

Lexington hovered by Whiplash for a few more belated moments, giving the dragon an extra set of scratches along the head before taking off with a leap and a bound into the air, following Broadway and Brooklyn off into the dark sky. Lupin mounted Whiplash’s saddle, but paused when Goliath called to her. She regarded the large gargoyle, ears swiveling toward him.

“If this task is not complete by dawn’s first light, please understand we will not be able to continue until the following evening.”

“You guys turn to stone. I get it. Elisa mentioned that.” She said. “We should be done before then. If not…I’ll just keep on going until every last one of them is dead.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Additional Notes: Valka is a Viking, yo. Don’t forget that. She doesn’t cower in the face of danger, she laughs in it, hahahah! No, but seriously. Valka went up against Drago, man. Even if she most likely knew she couldn’t beat him alone, she still gave it her damned all and you gotta give her respect on that front.**


	14. Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: Hahaha—no. I do not, nor will I ever, own any media showcased in this piece of fanfiction. They all belong to their respective creators and owners. The only thing I (barely) own is this piece are the written works and the original characters within it.**
> 
> **Warnings: There will be cursing, violence, mild nudity, blood, gore, and a few other minor things under the rainbow with this fic.**

**Chapter Fourteen:  
Monsters**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**  
__  
_“You will always be a monster—there is no turning back from it. But what kind of monster you become is entirely up to you.”  
_**-Julie Kagawa, “** _The Eternity Cure_ ”

  **OoOoOoOoOoO**

The dragons were restless. Valka couldn’t blame them. The smell of blood from that monstrous beast Lupin and the gargoyle creature had killed was still thick to their senses, stirring their agitation. It was an intruder in their territory, and they could smell many more like them still abound. Valka managed to help direct a squad of dragons to each cave network opening that needed guarding. Any _anthropophagi_ who tried escaping the cave-ins that Lupin had proposed would meet their end by fire and fangs.

She had a difficult enough time rounding up one of the more agitated Monstrous Nightmares and getting her to calm down. The Nightmare relented after some time, allowing Valka to gather enough of her flammable spit to fill several buckets. She directed the Nightmare, after she was done, toward the closest group guarding a cave opening just as Lupin and Whiplash came swooping in. Their descent was silent and near-invisible until werewolf and Night Fury alike were nearly on top of her. Cloudjumper noticed them just as quickly as Valka did and uttered a soft, guttural noise in greeting.

The black dragon crooned back in return as Lupin hopped off the saddle, glancing all around at the buckets already filled with noxious Nightmare spit.

“I was just about to get to this.”

Valka smiled wryly. “I hoped to speed things along,” she replied, allowing her smile to linger before it faded. “Just as I hope this plan of yours works. You were right about the castle; it is well fortified. It looks better than any I have ever seen, but beasts who crave flesh find ways to get ahold of it. If they truly desire humans, then they will find their way.”

Clever or not, hunger had a way of making beasts desperate. She had rarely ever witnessed it in dragonkind, but other creatures…they held a special reserve in their minds. They fell prey to those distressed-fueled instincts more often than naught.

“If it don’t work, feel free to kick my ass in the next life. I’ll even let you have the first punch.”

Valka smiled in spite of herself. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Better make it a good one, then.” She said, offering a grin to the taller woman. She turned to shout over her shoulder, “All right guys, let’s get these buckets to the others!”

Valka kept herself from startling as two of the other Night Furies seemingly came slithering from out the darkness itself to join them. They were larger than Whiplash, but they were of the same age—roughly as old as Toothless was currently. They sniffed at the buckets and curled their muzzles to bare their unsheathed teeth at it.

“Aw, c’mon guys, we got a job to do. Whip, back me up.”

Whiplash gave her a half-lidded look that said it all: _‘Don’t look to me for help.’_

Lupin uttered a soft indignant noise.

“Useless fire-breathing reptile.”

The other two Night Furies—Wind Biter and Storm Hunter, she recalled them being named as—relented at last and gathered up several of the buckets in their claws and took off into the skies. They disappeared from sight almost instantaneously, their black hides blending perfectly into the night sky. She’s seen Toothless and Hiccup do it scores of times since she’s returned to Berk, and yet, it still amazed her how quickly they seemed to melt away like that. She longed to see the look on her son’s face when she returned home with more Night Furies roaming Berk. Toothless was no longer alone. She only hoped that they would be able to go home soon.

There were two buckets left, and Lupin was already grabbing one. Valka took up the other. Cloudjumper rumbled behind her, patient and yet also edgy, signaling he was ready to go. Valka reached out without looking to press the palm of her hand against one of his outstretched wing-limbs in reassurance. He, in return, took pause long enough to turn his attention to Whiplash, blinkingly owlishly at the black dragon, who clacked his gummed jaws back in response.

 _‘Be careful.’_ The great Stormcutter seemed to be saying.

 _‘I will,’_ the Night Fury seemed to reply, with a snort and jerk of his head.

“I’ll take this to the cave by the ridge,” Valka said, motioning with the bucket. Lupin nodded.

“Guess I get the cave by the village.” She tarried briefly, thinking. “Have you checked on Rusty by any chance?”

“Not yet. He should be fine where he is.”

“I think…just in case things go south, you should have him seal off whatever cave entryways he can get to. You have that thing I gave you, that—yeah, that’s it. The walkie-talkie. Just click the button on the side and speak into it when you need to. If you keep pressing it though, you’ll miss what someone else is saying, so release it when you’re done talking. Anyway…if I tell you to, do it. Don’t worry about me. Either they have to tear me to pieces or I will them, and I’ll find my own way out. I promise.”

Valka hesitated, an objection on her lips. She fell silent just as quickly, mulling over the werewolf’s directions. She finally relented, nodding and turned the aforementioned walkie-talkie over in her hand, running her thumb along the thick, little antennae. She nearly dropped it a second later when it beeped and crackled to life. Hellboy’s voice came filtering through after the static cleared.

“ _Hey, can everyone hear me? Over._ ”

Lupin quickly unclipped the walkie-talkie from her belt, making a mental note to get the others back she’d lent out. _Maybe I should have had them sign an armoury roster or something. Oh well, too late now, I suppose. Just gotta remember to get everything back later._

“This is Lupin here, I’m with Valka, Whiplash, and Cloudjumper. A few of the other Night Furies should be over there, dropping off that flammable Nightmare spit. Over.”

“ _Yeah, one of them just dropped off a bucket, we’re setting up a perimeter right now. We’re here too, me and Sam. And uh, the other gargoyle guys._ ” A pause. “ _Brooklyn, Broadway, and Lexington. Wait, really? Okay then. Yeah, they’re all over here. Over._ ”

“ _Good. We just got ours too. Just one more thing. Switching it over to Blue._ ” A crackle and another pause, this time from Hellboy’s end. Abe’s voice came on shortly after. “ _Hello? Ah, yes. A quick note._ Anthropophagi _are attracted to blood. Human blood, to be specific. Lupin, if you want them to come to you and your Night Furies, you’ll need that to attract them. It’d make it easier for you. You won’t need much, they have a rather remarkably well-developed sense of smell. And if we want any stragglers drawn to our positions…_ ”

“ _We’ll need to bleed a little at the entrances of our positions. Great. Over._ ”

Lupin groaned, flicking her eyes towards Valka, before depressing the button of her walkie-talkie, grumbling, “Understood. Got it. Over and out _._ ”

Lupin turned back to face Valka, and found the woman already clambering up Cloudjumper’s wing and shoulder with fluid, practiced ease. The walkie-talkie was clipped back at her side on her belt, the bucket of Monstrous Nightmare spit in hand. Cloudjumper rumbled heavily in his chest, rising up higher without needing prompting from the Viking woman on his backside.

“You need to hurry. The more time we waste, the more likely they’ll avoid us.”

Lupin opened her mouth, started to say something, but snapped it shut when she was buffeted by gale winds caused by Cloudjumper’s take off. Whiplash warbled softly at her side, watching as the Stormcutter disappeared from sight. Lupin watched as well, ears falling to press against her head. She turned back to the Night Fury beside her, ears flicking back up. She swung herself up into his saddle, her own bucket in hand.

“C’mon, let’s just get this shit over with.”

Whiplash simply thrummed with unspent energy as he growled in agreement. Lupin had only a split second to tighten her grip on the bucket before the Night Fury hurtled himself back into the air, black wings snapping open and catching the wind as they sailed toward the caves by the village.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

“You took your sweet time. What, did you stop to get beer or something?”

“Yeah, I did, actually. Except, I drank all of it on the way over. Sorry, not sorry.”

“Dick move. Didn’t even save us a six-pack for when this is all over.”

“Yeah, I’m not really known for being nice.”

Lupin had to repress the urge to curl her lip and crinkle her nose at the smell of human blood in the air. It wasn’t hard to find the source, either. Dean had a bandanna tied and knotted around his arm, and flecks of red staining bared skin could be seen. Sam was over by the mouth of the cave, holding his bare arm over the ground. The gargoyle trio were spreading the Nightmare spit on the ground near where Sam stood, careful to make the ring big enough to trap several _anthropophagi_ in one go. Lupin held up the bucket of spit she brought.

“Extra. Just in case things go south.”

“At least you brought us something,” Dean said in acknowledgment. She offered it to him and he took it, careful not to slosh the flammable liquid about.

“Damn, that stinks. And this stuff is really supposed to be dragon spit, right?” He appeared dubious.

“Monstrous Nightmare, yeah. They tend to have a nasty habit of coating themselves in their own spit and setting themselves on fire.”

“Yeah, I think I can see where they get that name now. Probably terrifying to just about anyone who sees them in action, I bet.”

“Except Vikings from this island, apparently,” Lupin sighed as she followed Dean. They had set up a shooting point up on one of the rooftops closest to the cave mouth, it looked like. She wondered if the others had the same height advantage. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to them needing to fire any weapons.

Just her.

 _Which must be killing these guys,_ Lupin thought off-handedly. They didn’t appear too happy being relegated to guard duty, if the strain in the air was anything to go by. Well, the extra tension besides the electric feeling dedicated to keeping noses to the grindstone and focused on the task at hand, that was.

She could smell it, making the air sour and edgy, in spite of the forced show of humour. Whiplash froze beside her, and she caught the stiffened movement in the corner of her eye. She turned to face him, a question on her lips, but fell silent as the answer came slinking up on them. Night Furies were especially skilled at sneaking about, she’s come to learn. She’d have to dedicate herself to learning their footfall patterns better from now on. Wind Biter and Storm Hunter trotted over to join Whiplash, lightly snapping at the smaller Night Fury affectionately. Whiplash crooned back, low and long and soft, his wings jerking partly open before fluttering closed.

Dean stopped to watch, bemusement crossing his features.

“Uh…are they…?”

“They’re fine. They’re playing. Let them enjoy it before we go rooting around in the caves.”

“If you say so.”

“Look, if I could, I’d take you in there with me, but—”

“I get it. We’d be nothing but cannon fodder in there. Big bad monsters can see in the dark, we can’t. You can, though. I’m guessing they can too.” Dean said while nodding toward the wrestling Night Furies. He ducked when a finned black tail came sailing toward him, looking properly startled, then annoyed. Lupin whistled at them, prompting Whiplash to disentangle himself and trot a little ways from them, enticing the other two to trail after him. Lupin watched for another moment.

“Echolocation-based roars, actually, but it’s essentially along the same lines.” She finally corrected.

“Either way, doesn’t sound like we’re gonna be seeing any action in there, and we’ll be lucky to see any out here.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that. Those fuckers are pretty damn fast. Faster than a human can react. Brooklyn and I had enough of a hassle with them as it is.”

“Good thing you aren’t human, then.”

There was a slight bitterness to his tone when he said it, a grudging acknowledgment to her inhuman status. It only just reminded her who she was talking to: a monster hunter. Someone who would rather put a silver bullet in her brain pan than to work alongside her. Lupin felt her ears start to sag before she stopped and raised them back up, her jaw tightening up.

“I didn’t ask to become what I am, Dean. And if it makes you feel any better, whether or not you believe me, I don’t eat humans. The smell of your blood makes me want to gag.”

She turned on her pawed heel, giving a sharp whistle as she went. Immediately, three sets of heavy paws followed in her wake as they left the stunned hunter behind. She skirted around the circle of Nightmare spit, giving a passing wave to the gargoyles who uttered a greeting to her. Sam did much the same as she passed him, although she gave him a stiff nod of acknowledgement as she went.

“I’m going radio dark. Don’t bother trying to contact me.”

“Wait, what if something happens to you?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll send word if something does.” She shot a parting look over her shoulder at the taller man that clearly stated, _‘I doubt something will happen to_ me _.’_ She kept going, into the embrace of the darkness beyond. “Just worry about yourselves for now. See ya later.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

The caves were a damned maze, even with the help of Hiccup’s maps readily at hand. She marked off another empty cavern, unnerved at the eerie quiet around her and the dragons. Whiplash nudged her elbow as she rolled the map up and stuffed it into her back pocket, muttering softly under her breath.

“I can smell them. They smell like rotting meat and death. So, where the hell are they…?” She muttered under her breath in annoyance. For monsters that had only been there for nearly half a night, their stink was everywhere. It was a miasma in these confined places. She could just barely pick up traces of fresh trails versus older ones, but all of them were relatively new. They doubled back on one another. Thankfully, none of them wandered close to the fading scent of fresh air. Not yet, anyways.

Lupin eyed the cavern walls and went over to inspect them, pressing the tips of her fingers against them, pushing. It was all stone, hard and unwilling to give in so easily. Even with claws like theirs, it’d be too much wear and tear for them to be digging into stone. They were hooked and barbed, but if they do dig, it’d be better suited for soft soil, not hard rock.

She and the dragons moved on, all of them keeping their ears pricked and at the ready for anything unusual. On occasion, the dragons would pause, snuffle, and roar. Briefly, it almost appeared as though they made light appear, but it was always too quick for her to follow, like a trick to the eye. She wondered about it, sidetracked and mesmerized, as she could barely pick up the higher-pitched frequencies that only they seemed fully aware of as they trailed alongside and behind her. _Even my ears aren’t made for this. Amazing._

It didn’t take them long to stumble across something.

Rather, it didn’t take them long to stumble across _someone_.

They found him in the next chamber.

It was a young man, carefully pacing himself with a hand to the wall, staring out but not seeing in the pitch blackness of the cave. He appeared calm, but even Lupin could hear his heart jackhammering away in his chest, could smell the sour reek of old sweat mixing with fresh perspiration.

“Oi.”

He froze at the sound of her voice. Even as soft as she tried to make it, it echoed clearly enough to repeat a few times before fading.

“I can see you.”

He twisted and turned, trying to pinpoint where her voice was coming from. She patted Whiplash gently on the head, brushed fingers with Wind Biter’s chin, and strode forward.

“I’m coming toward you now. Don’t freak out when I grab hold.”

“Can you really see me?”

“I got me some special eyes that can see in the dark,” she admitted. “I ain’t out to hurt you. In fact, I’m here to help get you out of here. I know that there’s things lurking around that would be more likely to kill you than I would.”

“What kind of things? Who are you? What in the hell is going on around here?”

“I get that you got questions. But I’m not joking when I say there are things out there in the dark. Things that want to kill and eat you. I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen. I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but you got to trust me.”

“Just answer me this. Have you come across another person by any chance? He’s my younger brother. His name’s Alphonse, he’s got blonde hair and grey eyes and—”

“Alphonse? Yeah, he came around a while ago. He’s okay, he’s safe. He’s out of the caves, been out a while now. I promise, we’ll get you to him. But you need to come with me.”

The young man sucked in a breath between his teeth, as though he couldn’t believe what he heard. Then he let out a sigh of relief and a tired smile flickered onto his face. It didn’t last long.

“Wait. There’s one more person. Maybe two. I’m not sure. Have you seen a young woman at all? Or perhaps an older woman with her? Winry and Pinako Rockbell.”

She paused, rolling the names around in her head, making sure to commit them to memory, just in case.

“I…I haven’t, I’m sorry. I’ve been sweeping the caves. I’ve got a team outside. We only just became aware of the monsters and people that showed up—”

“What do you mean, ‘showed up’? People don’t just ‘ _show up_ ’.”

“Look—what’s your name? I’ll tell you mine. Call me Lupin.”

“Lupin?” A pause from the young man as he glanced down at the ground. Lupin didn’t think he could see much, but he got an ‘A’ for effort, at least. “My name’s Edward Elric. And I damn well better get some answers if I come with you.”

“You will. I’ll be sure to give you a debrief.”

“Debrief, huh? You sound like someone that’s in the military.”

She chose not to comment, but a thin, wry smile made a bitter appearance on her face for a moment. She shuffled closer, realizing this was as good a time as any to let him know she was closer. He didn’t even flinch when she brushed her hand on his shoulder. “Over here. I’ve got an escort to get you out of here. Don’t be alarmed now. He’s big and scaly, but he’ll keep you safe until you get out of here.”

He reluctantly parted ways with the cave wall and allowed her to lead the way, acting as both their eyes. He took steps carefully and slowly, feeling his way around as she led him to Storm Hunter. The Night Fury sniffed at her, curious. She slithered a hand down to Edward’s, pulling it up and making him flatten his palm.

“Just go along with this. Nothing crazy, just some bonding.”

“Bonding? What’re you—”

Storm Hunter brought his muzzle to bear on Edward’s outstretched palm, blowing hot air on it. Edward froze, shutting up almost immediately, eyes widening at the unseen creature sitting before him.

“What…is in front of me right now?”

“A dragon. Don’t worry, he won’t bite. Well…not unless you give him reason to. Even if he does, he’ll probably do it with his gums and not his teeth.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“It will when you get out of here and see him in proper lighting.”

Storm Hunter waited, and Edward waited as well, taut and stiff, hand still outstretched. The Night Fury leaned closer, taking his time and then the moment came. He pressed his nose, ever so gently, into the young man’s palm and shuddered softly.

“Okay. Good. That’s good. He’ll let you ride him now.”

“What, ride him? What do you mean by that—whoa, geez!”

Storm Hunter was a dragon of action, Lupin’s come to find over the weeks of observing, thanks to Valka’s lessons. He was bored with words, she could already tell. The Night Fury promptly turned and scooped Edward up using his head as an impromptu shovel and made the young man tumble onto his back. Lupin patted the dragon on the cheek. “Hurry up and get him out of here. Then get your tail back. If you can get the others to come too, that’d be great. And you’d better hang on, Edward. Night Furies are fast dragons. Don’t want to fall off now!”

“Wait, wait, wait—I never agreed to this—!”

They were gone before Edward could scramble off. Whiplash warbled and Wind Biter trilled quietly, staring in the direction Storm Hunter had taken off. She sighed softly, a comment on her lips to the others but it was stifled instantly at the sound of scuffling. Like claws scraping on stone, like teeth clacking against one another. The dragons silenced themselves as well, instantly picking up the sound and following one another’s leads.

Lupin drew her knives in lieu of the stack of firepower she had brought with her. Silence was better in this situation; if things got ugly, she’d let the bullets rain and she’d have plenty of them to do so. For now, she’d rather not alert every ugly motherfucker that she was here.

_Although, with that kid screaming his damned head off making his exit probably didn’t help…or maybe it drew them here._

The cavern where Edward’s scent trail wafted from was also where the noises were coming from. Adopting a low posture, Lupin crept along, ears ramrod straight and pricked to every little snuffle, snarl, and soft groan that was being made. As she peeked around the corner, she spotted four of the pale bastards inspecting the cavern beyond. It was tighter quarters, just barely enough room to allow them free reign. Lupin waved a hand at Wind Biter and Whiplash, directing them behind her. They swung around behind her, pressing close to the wall as best they could. Lupin stepped back away from the tight entryway of the next cave chamber, just as one of the _anthropophagi_ turned in her direction.

_They’ll smell the human blood on me—wait. Oh, crap. I forgot to get that! Stupid. Okay, fine. Forget it. They’re following that kid’s scent then. Gonna have to be good enough for now._

Her grip tightened on the leather-bound handle of her knife, frame rigid and tight as the first pale beast lumbered through, thrusting its shoulders this way and then that to give its jet-black eyes a look-see. Lupin ducked, rolled, throwing herself forward and shoved her knife-bearing fist forward. The _anthropophagi_ startled, but reacted only a second too late before it keeled over as the knife plunged inward, straight to its brain between its legs. The gaping mouth in the center of its chest locked itself in an open position, jagged shark teeth pointing outward as it fell over in an unceremonious heap on the cave floor.

The other three _anthropophagi_ came hurtling toward her in an instant. Wind Biter and Whiplash were more than ready. They yowled as they pounced upon the first two, as Lupin ducked the third that barreled straight for her. She dug her claws into the stone floor and gritted her teeth tightly together. The _anthropophagus_ let out a chitter, flexing its lithe limbs as it gathered its bearings.

“C’mon, ugly. Over here!”

Bright blasts and high-pitched shrieks and acrid smoke filled the air, like firecrackers going off. It dazzled the monster before her, diverting its attention away from her. Whether it was the dragon fire or the cries of agony from its brethren, the _anthropophagus_ didn’t see her coming until the last moment, just like the first.

_So much for no noise. That’ll either send them running. Whether it’s to or from us, they know we’re coming now._

The stench of smouldering flesh and scorched stone permeated the air when it was all said and done. Lupin gazed around, watching as Wind Biter snarled in distaste at the corpse of the monster he dispatched. He promptly turned until his tail faced the body and proceeded to haughtily scratch his back paws at the limp, burnt thing several times, then scampered over to her. Whiplash mimicked the other Night Fury in similar fashion before returning to her side, gently nudging her arm. She complied at the silent request, rubbing at the crown of his head. She swept her gaze over the monsters.

“They’re almost full grown,” she noted absently. “But Abe said even a young cub can be a threat. So, stay sharp, you two.”

Whiplash and Wind Biter alike pinned her with a half-lidded gaze that all but said, _‘What, do you think we’re stupid?’_

She snorted and lurched forward to press on deeper into the cave network. “Let’s just go, all right? Stop looking at me like that.”

They still had to find where they were currently making their home base. If they found that, caved in a few chambers, the rest would be scattered, starved, directionless. Chances were, they wouldn’t have enough females to start a nest over. Cause a few more cave ins here and there, block off connection, starve them out. Stragglers would be forced out, either into the awaiting maw of dozens of dragons, or into the shooting ring of the two hunting groups.

Everything’s easier said than done, Lupin reminded herself. It was the same whenever they had debriefs of a mission at hand. It didn’t matter how many questions were asked, how many precautions were taken to minimize danger or casualties, how well-trained an individual or a group was. Someone always got hurt, someone always died, something unexpected happened.

This was no different.

Believing otherwise was going to get someone hurt, or worse.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

The air was choked with the stench of gritty, acrid smoke and the poison water. Only in the deepest caverns did she escape its putrid smell. There were other creatures here, she could sniff out that much. It registered as danger to her mind. Yet she tried venturing closer, to gradually assess whether she had the means to push past.

Great beasts that were cloaked in the scent of fire and smoke guarded the only means of exit…and freedom. Beasts of bright and hard flesh that gleamed in the pale moonlight, with talons and fangs greater than hers, many headed and massive limbed creatures many times her size. Beasts that spewed ashes and cinders, plumes of them alike. What manner of creature they were, she knew not, but she knew they were not to be trifled with.

Her pack mates were restless. They wandered the warren tunnels with restless abandon, testing their luck, but to no avail. There didn’t seem to be any manner of luck for them. The cubs were hungry. They needed flesh.

The great female snuffled at the air, desperate to sort through the confusing miasma around her and…

She caught it. A faint whiff of it.

 _Flesh_.

Fresh, living flesh. It wasn’t close. But it wasn’t far, either. She was tempted to leave the nest, to leave the cubs. But she trusted none of her other brood mates to care for them the way she could.

The others seemed to have caught wind of the scent mark as well. They were perking up, sniffing the air hungrily. Several of them took to the tunnels, already on the hunt. They would find the meat and they would bring it back here. They would all feed then. They were all ravenous. They were all starving.

She could hardly wait.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Lupin, Wind Biter, and Whiplash came upon several more _anthropophagi_ as they pressed deeper into the cave network. Their stench grew greater in volume and intensity. They must have been gathering at some point before wandering to find a viable exit. With her radio off, she couldn’t risk checking to see if any had made it out before they set up the dragon blocks, the shooting points. Noise would give her away. They’d lose what little advantage of surprise they had.

So far, what monsters they had come across seemed genuinely surprised to cross paths with them.

 _Nearly a dozen down,_ she thought, _an unknown number left to go._

She patted Whiplash on the crown of his head as pressed in closer to her, softly warbling. Wind Biter took up Whiplash’s other side, taking it upon himself to let out another ear-ringing roar. He moved forward with all the grace of a big cat, slinking around a pair of stalagmites with his nose thrust up to sniff the air. In the last few caverns, she’s noticed the influence from the Viking inhabitants that had once lived on the island—support beams and columns were hammered into place where the space was tight, where she and the dragons had to walk through single file. Hiccup’s maps corresponded with the areas they delved into as being unstable or higher-risk pathways. They would be easier to destabilize, to collapse, when the time came. She would have to make especial care to take note about their locations if she backtracked this way.

Storm Hunter had yet to rejoin them. None of the other Night Furies have found their way to them, either. She hoped they would be here soon, but she wasn’t holding out too much hope. The other Night Furies were fickle with her. They tolerated her, acknowledged her presence when necessary, but otherwise, she was mostly invisible. Whiplash was another story. He was their kin, their family, their flock mate. They found her a passing oddity. They found him a source of play and practice, of love and comfort. Lupin didn’t expect to win the hearts and minds of all the Night Furies all at once or in just one night. She was all right with them not being loving and doting on her like they were with Whiplash for the time being.

Having one overly zealous, rambunctious dragon running amok and knocking her about was quite enough, thank you very much.

They moved deeper, closer to the source of the foul reek that was strongest. The gathering point where, at one point, all the _anthropophagi_ had resided, even if only for a few minutes. It was still strong. That either meant a chunk of them were still there, or the nest with the cubs and possibly the matriarch was there.

For now, it was all they had to go on.

Yet something seemed…off. A lingering scent trail, a waft of something different in the stale cavern air. Something…human. Two distinct scents. One male. One female.

Odd.

Edward was stating there might be two others. One older, the other younger. Both female. This doesn’t seem right. Unless…

_Unless they aren’t from his home world. Or only one of them is. Or it could be any number of things._

Either way, it meant two more people to liberate from the den of monsters.

_Great._

Lupin patted Whiplash on the head once more, and picked up the pace. They cleared two more networks, spattering the ground and painting the walls red with blood and black with scorch marks as they bulldogged their way deeper and tore through the oncoming _anthropophagi_. Even through the haze of blood, smoke, and burnt flesh, Lupin could make out the smell of human getting stronger until they were right on top of the scent trail. That meant they were close to the source of the humans themselves. It was much too close to the source of the monsters.

“We’re close. Get ready,” Lupin murmured softly to the other two. Whiplash and Wind Biter alike huffed in reply.

Lupin’s ears flicked about the top of her head, patiently picking out nearby acoustics: the quiet drip or rush of water; the occasional brush of a breeze somehow making its way this deep into the caverns; and then there…the hurrying patter of heartbeats and the soft drumming of footsteps, a pair of them.  She and the dragons were closing in on the pair. Or perhaps it was the other way around: the pair were heralding closer to where she and the Night Furies were doing just as quickly.

The rushed scattering of fleshy feet and talons scrabbling for purchase on stony flooring registered itself to her ears suddenly, but they were accompanied by another noise entirely: unearthly howls that unexpectedly rattled the labyrinthine tunnels and stony warrens deep within Berk’s heart. The echoing locomotion of noise made it difficult to discern where the source of the voices were coming from. The deceitful bouncing of beastly noises seemed to come from everywhere at once. Wind Biter and Whiplash alike yowled their own discontent, teeth unsheathed and bared to the gums, wild green fire and amber yellow eyes darting wildly about in an attempt to pinpoint the unseen enemy before they struck.

Lupin herself had trouble tracking the two pairs of footsteps that she knew to be human; covered feet, most likely booted, were picking up pace now in response to the bellows. She consulted the map quickly, eyes raking over the likely places they could be coming from. The cavern hollow she and her dragon escorts were in was a junction chamber, with various openings branching off in different directions, deeper and deeper still. Others seemed to veer off back toward the surface. No doubt Valka had the dragons guarding those exits. There was a familiar wafting of dragon fire and smoke tinging the air; a familiar scent to her by now.

The werewolf clenched her jaw tightly. _Now or never!_

She signaled for the Night Furies to follow her lead. They leapt on after her as she skidded toward the most likely candidate where the sound was originating from. It wasn’t just her ears she was trying to trust, it was her nose. She was glad when she realized she had made the right choice. Silhouettes peeled themselves apart from the pitch black, vaguely humanoid shapes. Details rapidly melted into place—clothes, boots, actual heads. One was a female with long hair tied out of the way, much shorter than in height than the one she was tagging along with. Her companion was the taller male, broader in build, and was keeping an even pace to allow his smaller companion to keep up.

Behind the both of them, Lupin could see three _anthropophagi_ and they were closing in fast. Lupin rushed forward, leapt over the oncoming pair in a single bound and came in for a hard landing on the first of the monsters. It snarled, baring its horrid mouth agape in a mixture of astonishment and rage, long limbs rushing to snatch up the werewolf in their devilish claws. It got a kick and a stab in one of its bulbous black eyes for its troubles. The other two slashed at the air a moment too late, and were promptly shot down by the pair of Night Furies. Lupin drove one of her knives through the back of her opponent, near the base of its spine. The _anthropophagi_ let out a dying snarl as it collapsed unceremoniously onto the ground in a boneless heap.

She gave a cursory check with her surroundings—sight, smell, audio—before straightening, satisfied that there didn’t seem to be any more of the monsters waiting to ambush them.

The two humans had stopped not far from her and the dragons. The female was doubled over, clutching at her side. For a moment, Lupin thought she’d been hurt, but she didn’t smell blood.

_Catching their breaths. Must be hard navigating in this darkness._

She hasn’t had to deal with that kind of problem in years. It was hard for her to remember what it was like. Not when she could see perfectly fine in it. The only thing that suffered was colour desaturation. She couldn’t quite tell what was really blue or black or brown, or if something was pink or green or yellow in the darkness. Everything was simplified. As long as she could see them and differentiate who they were, a little colour loss in her vision in the darkness was fine by her.

_Not like I’m trying to defuse a bomb or anything and need to know which is the blue or red wire…_

The man didn’t seem to be as winded. His breathing was articulated, measured, already cycling normal. She approached slowly, purposefully letting her paws scrape along the ground to signify her presence.

“What just…happened? They were chasing us one minute, and—and then the next—” The young woman managed between breaths, only to interrupted into silence by Lupin.

“That would be me.”

The young woman appeared more startled than the man.

_If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s staring right at me. But how?_

“Sorry to spook ya,” Lupin continued, stopping a good meter away from the pair. “Couldn’t help but notice y’all were having some troubles with the invading and very unwelcome pests back there. Thought I’d lend a hand.”

“That’s great and everything, but how did you do that? Those things—”

“Have a weakness, even if it is smaller than their big mouths.” Lupin remarked sardonically, with a hint of humour tinging her tone. “I wouldn’t suggest being handling them yourselves though. They tend to eat humans.”

“It would seem that you are better suited for the task than I am. You do not appear to be quite human yourself.”

Lupin took pause at that remark; the first she’s heard from the man. She studied him carefully, eyes narrowed. She waved a hand. He seemed to follow the movement, his head shifting in time to the motions she made.

“Can you…see me?”

“In a sense,” he replied dryly. Lupin frowned.

“Good. Use that to get out of here. Can you see my associates?”

“Yes. What manner of creature are they? I have never seen a beast such as them.” He sounded downright puzzled and wary.

“Dragons. And before either of you go into the stages of complete denial, please be mindful of where you are. This isn’t the place to do it. Wait until you’re out of the caves.” The werewolf paused, considering the young woman before addressing her, “Your name wouldn’t happen to be Winry, would it?”

The young woman, in turn, was wary and stalled in answering. “It is. But…how did you know that?”

“Your boy Ed. I ran into him not too long ago, before I had another one of my dragons help him out of the caves. He told me to keep an eye out of you. Wind Biter,” Lupin craned her head to glance over at the larger Night Fury. He stiffened briefly before slinking closer. Whiplash warbled softly behind Lupin worriedly. She shushed him softly, quietly telling him she wasn’t going to send him away next.

_I swear, if he could, he’d attach himself to my hip sometimes. I wonder if Cloudjumper ever got this way with Valka._

“Okay, you take them the rest of the way out. Got it?”

The Night Fury jerked his head into a nod before sliding his attention over to the pair. Lupin shuffled a little closer.

“I need you two to stick your hands out. You gotta do a little bonding before he’ll come any closer. Don’t worry, he won’t bite. Just a little muzzle-to-hand interaction.”

The pair were hesitant, but slowly, they extended their hands out. “Just keep steady. Don’t freak if you feel him huff on your palm.”

Wind Biter crooned softly, shuffling forward, first toward the man, who had yet to introduce himself, and then to Winry. She let out a nervous laugh when his muzzle pressed into her palm.

“He’s warm,” she said with a cautious smile gracing her lips. Wind Biter crooned softly at her, pleased at her comment. Winry scratched the dragon’s snout in return.

“Yeap, he is. This here’s Wind Biter. He’s got faster reaction times than you two do when it comes to these monsters. He’ll be sure to keep y’all safe.”

“How many of these creatures would you say are left?”

“I dunno. I’m still looking for the nest. Seems to be about a dozen viable places they could be holing up the rest of the pack in.”

“I believe we may have stumbled upon it earlier when we were seeking a way out.”

Lupin took pause at that, assessing the young man with more scrutiny. He stared back with equal fervor and silence, waiting. She broke the silence after it dragged on for longer than she would have liked.

“How far off is it?”

“I do not know how far. I do know we took a fair amount of turns to get to where we are.”

“If I provide a light, and a map of this network, think you could retrace your steps?”

He took a moment to think before he nodded. “I believe I can, yes.”

“Good. Make it quick. I don’t want to announce our position to these things before I can get y’all out of here.”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

The closer she got to the possible site of the _anthropophagi_ nest, the more intense their scent became. For a clan of creatures that hadn’t been there for even a full night, they stunk badly, like rotting carcasses made unto death incarnate, a ghastly infection that rent the air and would not dissipate in the slightest. The only reprieve Lupin got was the faint wisps of dragon fire and smoke from the occasional whiff of guarded exit points she came close to.

Whiplash seemed just as disgusted by the scent as well. He would snot-snarl every so often when it came in strong waves towards them, teeth bared completely instead of showing his gums in distaste. His entire body felt like one continuous strand of muscle, all coiled tight and locked in position, ready to spring. Not even when Lupin pressed a hand to his neck did he calm down.

“Yeah, I smell it too.”

She took out the map from her back pocket and scanned the area that had been marked by Connor, the young man with Winry. It was a rough estimation of where the nest might have been, not an exact location. It turned out, the two hadn’t even come close to the nest. They had been intercepted by the trio of _anthropophagi_ before they even got close.

_Territorial. That’s what Abe said they were. I think those fuckers chasing down even the possibility of scarfing down a scrap of food counts. Christ._

They were damn lucky to have made it out without a scratch. Lupin surmised it had something to do with Connor. He had an array of weaponry on his person, and there was the faint aroma of blood on him, some of it old and some of it fresh. Human and animal blood alike. He was no stranger to killing.

_He kept her safe. He’s the only reason they made it like that. Let’s keep it that way._

It turned out, Connor was right on the money. The closer she got toward the estimated location of the nest, the more of the monsters there were; just a little under a dozen and a half more of them in all. They ranged in size, some small and others large—the adolescents and the fully grown, but none of them were small enough to be cubs. None of them were big enough to be the matriarch, the queen.

The whole pack was hell bent on eliminating her and Whiplash, that much she could tell and they fought through the masses of pale beasts. They tried to rip her apart with their talons and fangs. They tried tearing Whiplash to pieces. Neither of them needed to hold back, or worry about someone else getting harmed in the process as they let loose a path of ruin and blood.

 _Maybe I won’t even need to collapse some of the tunnels or any of it,_ Lupin thought as they dispatched another small squad of nearly-fully grown _anthropophagi_. _Maybe we can just take them all out._

Almost as soon as the thought coalesced, she reprimanded herself. There wasn’t any guarantee that they could get them all. If even one of those things escaped, it would remain a threat. They couldn’t be trained to not eat humans. That was like training a lion to not eat meat. It was more likely to self-discipline a werewolf to abstain from human flesh; there were other options. These things…she could smell their crazed bloodlust and hunger and the scent of absolute death—human death—upon them all. They lived for it. They craved it. She didn’t know everything about these beasts, but she could already tell there wasn’t any way she could let even the youngest of cubs to survive. Even if the thought of killing something so young made her stomach churn, she had to remind herself that even a cub had hundreds of teeth and barbed claws, ready to tear and rend flesh apart from a human. They were still dangerous. It wasn’t like a human child.

She’d seen too many dead kids in streets already, torn asunder by bullets and bombs. She shook the thoughts from her head, trying to clear the smoke of a war she was no longer involved in away.

Whiplash rammed his head into Lupin’s side, breaking through her wall of thoughts. She patted his head, then winced when she smeared monster blood over his scales. The Night Fury didn’t seem to mind all too much. His muzzle was already stained red, she imagined, and so were his paws and belly. He had nicks and cuts scattered across his body, but she was impressed at his durability. She would have to give him a once-over when they were out, to determine the severity of some of his wounds, to ensure there wasn’t any long-term damage; especially to his wings.

Every wound she endured had healed. Her clothes were another story altogether. She just hoped there was enough material left that she could salvage and repair them. It wasn’t as though she could pop off to the store and get a new pair of jeans, after all.

The air was cool against her skin, but it wasn’t a bother to her, like it would be for most people. She didn’t feel the cold as readily or as uncomfortably as everyone else did. She noticed there were less drafts as they pressed onward, less free-flowing air to push into the depths of the caverns. There was plenty of stale air, old and dark and having never seen the light of day nor the taste of a fully fresh breeze pass through it in millennia. There were scant traces of brine in the air, and somewhere, a source of fresh water she could smell—but it was most likely a sliver of a hidden underground river.

_If I were a monster from the depths of some forgotten crevice of the world, this is the kind of godforsaken hidey-hole I’d pick for my super-secret squirrel nest too._

The air was tight with tension, like the coils of a snake getting ready to strike. It made Lupin’s skin itch with anticipation, or it did until she realized she’d allowed a fine down of fur to coat her arms and shoulders, her talons growing thick and hooked in the beds of her nails. Slowly, she had to forcefully will it all to recede, but that itchy tense feeling remained despite the absence of fur. Her jaw ached from keeping it clenched and tight.

Everything was much too quiet for her liking. Whiplash was just as restless beside her, just as taut as she felt, as the air around them was. He wanted this to be over as much as she did—or perhaps he was just anticipating ripping apart the last of these monsters, looking forward to it.

Even with the colour desaturation her eyes suffered from in total pitch black such as this and the darkness of his scales nearly hiding him from sight, she could pick up the nuances in his expression. What little she could make out, anyway. It was hard, even for her eyes, to follow the Night Fury completely. He seemed to disappear entirely from sight, only to materialize elsewhere, like a wraith. It was more than a little unnerving.

_No wonder these guys were considered death incarnate to Valka’s people. If they can damn near disappear to my eyes in this darkness, I can only imagine what they do to humans._

Lupin consulted the map once more, but she practically had it memorized at this point. They were close. She laid a hand on Whiplash’s shoulder as they kept moving forward, felt the slick wetness of blood on his hide. Some of it was already turning tacky and somewhat cold to the touch. Or was that her hand, still covered in monster blood? She couldn’t tell anymore. Either way, they were both _definitely_ getting a bath after all this was over.

A miasma of rot hit her full force in an abrupt wave, making her stagger and choke on her next breath. _They haven’t killed—why is it so strong?_

They must have come from a world where they were surrounded by bodies—so many, in a confined space over so many years, that the smell itself was so ingrained in the creatures. Especially at the epicenter of their nest. It wasn’t embedded in the rock, thankfully. It would fade in time. Once she got rid of the monsters.

The next chamber she and Whiplash entered was huge and yawning, with signs of human influence. There were piles of timber and tools, support beams and pillars either already erected into place or in the process of being done. More expansion, all in favour of catering to dragons and Vikings alike, all of it a result of Hiccup’s brain child, no doubt. She was beginning to grow a little envious of the young man; he was a creative mind she wished she had the pleasure of meeting.

She hoped that day never came. It would mean he would stuck here, like others waiting outside the caverns. She felt her stomach twist into knots at the thought.

 _This is it,_ she realized after consulting the map one last time. _Connor and Winry claimed they came close to here. This must be the nest. But I’ve killed most of the inhabitants, it seems like. But where are the cubs? The matriarch?_

It was empty. There were signs of the monsters having been there. Their stench was heavy in the air. But they weren’t close by, lying in wait. She sniffed pointedly, finding the newest trail she could pick out and growled low under her breath. The scent markers were pointing toward another passageway leading out of the nest. The matriarch might have sensed the discord going on outside her little realm and decided to herd what cubs she could to safety. That meant she was making a break for it.

“C’mon, Whip, we’ve gotta catch up to the bitch and her brood,” she barked. Whiplash snarled in response, leaping after the werewolf as she took off.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Her home was compromised. Her clan was all but dead. This was no place for a nest. She could not dig and bury herself in soft soil, could not ambush her prey, her would-be hunter. She had to listen to the agony of her dying clan mates, each shriek and scream driving her rabid with rage. If it weren’t for the cubs keeping her grounded, instinct keeping her rooted to her place, she would have gone into the fray to rip the intruder to pieces.

But this place did not feel like a proper nest. It smelled like the poison water she so hated, and of smoke and fire—heat and light. More things she loathed, and her kind loathed on instinct. It was a place borne of poison that would sooner kill her and her brood than it would serve to nurture them all.

Rage tried to fuel her to fly to the aide of her clan mates. Her maternal instincts overruled that. She gathered the cubs, only a total of three, and herded them along, gnashing her teeth at them when they tried to stop and dawdle. They snapped their maws in return, but toddled along, their pale knuckles very nearly dragging along the ground most of the time. Some passages were tight, so tight that she had to muscle and squirm her way through. Mostly, though, she could walk with little hindrance. The tunnels seemed to almost be natural, although there were influences of human meddling.

She did not take note of the architectural influences, nor did she notice the tools and timber that alluded to future projects. All she smelled were faded scent marks of prey, long since gone, and teasing. It made her salivate at the smell, no matter how old, and her stomach drew taut with hunger. If she was feeling the pangs of hunger prickling at the edges, then the cubs were feeling it worse. They needed fresh flesh, and those who left to fetch what little she had sniffed out hadn’t returned. They were gone, just like the rest of them.

The winding trails either led to dead ends, smoke, or poison water. It wasn’t until she caught the whiff of prey blood that she felt a sliver of hope fill her.

She needed to herd the cubs to safety before she did anything else.

After that…after that, she would turn her maternal instincts over to territorial rage. This place was not ideal for a nest. She would find a new place and she would christen it with the freshly spilled blood of prey.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

The moment she flipped the switch of her radio, finally deciding to break her silence, it crackled to life with voices throwing themselves back and forth in light conversation.

“ _—so dragons don’t eat virgins?_ ”

That was Sam, Lupin recognized. The offended scoff that replied almost immediately belonged to Valka. She’s clearly learned to utilize the walkie-talkie fairly quickly and efficiently.

“ _Och, no! Whoever started that rumour clearly wanted to strike fear into the hearts of weaker men. If anything, I’d be more worried about a human stealing a dragon from another human and use them for their own nefarious reasons._ ”

Like Drago had done to the Barbaric Archipelago, Lupin thought as she remembered Valka’s retelling of the events that had happened to Berk not too long ago. How she had reunited with her son and her old home, but lost her beloved husband all in one blow. How she had lost the great Bewilderbeast to Rusty, when the latter had been under Drago’s ironclad control and made to murder his own kind.

“ _Y’know, as much as I’m loving history radio class right now, how about we keep an eye on what we’re here for, huh? I’d rather not be caught off guard in the middle of dragon behavior one-oh-one._ ”

And that last one was Dean.

“ _He’s right, let’s try to keep the channel open, just in case something actually comes up._ ” Hellboy replied, although he sounded momentarily distracted.

“Like the fact that the matriarch ain’t in the heart of the nest?” Lupin chimed in as soon as the last transmission went through.

There was a brief stint of silence, and that was louder than the burst of one voice clicking on, a brief burst of static, another voice, another static burst, and yet another voice. There wasn’t a complete message pushed through, but Lupin got the gist of things. Edward, Winry, and Connor were safe. The Night Furies were standing by, per Valka’s request, at the two designated shooters entrances. Also, she was a goddamned idiot.

That was repeated at least three times, from various voices over the course of two minutes.

When everything calmed, Hellboy chimed in. “ _So what’s your status? You went dark on us._ ”

“When I’m hunting something with sensitive hearing, I tend to eliminate any unnecessary noise-makers,” she replied.

“ _Fair point,_ ” he agreed, and in the background, she heard a mumbled voice, perhaps Abe say something incoherent. “ _Update?_ ”

“I’m pretty sure I killed everything besides the matriarch, maybe some cubs too. Connor and Winry claimed to have gotten close enough to the nest that it helped me find it easier. They must have rattled enough of them to send them into a frenzy, because I was pretty much doing a dungeon crawl with just monster-killing as my reward. No loot! None at all. I’m disappointed. I want my loot.”

There was a short round of laughter on the other end before Hellboy audibly sucked in a breath before saying, “ _Kid, you have no idea. At least nothing inanimate is trying to kill ya._ ”

“Night’s not over yet.” She shot back, feeling a faint grin tug at her lips. “You guys see anything?”

“ _Nah, not on our end._ ”

“ _Nothing on ours, either. Well, none except for those people you sent out._ ” Sam replied.

“ _None of the dragons have, either. There might have been close brushes, but nothing definitive,_ ” Valka added. Lupin’s lips curled downwards as she heard the worry bleeding into the other woman’s tone.

“Valka?”

There was silence on the other end for a short while. Lupin exchanged a glance with Whiplash. The Night Fury stared at the device in her hands and grumbled very softly. His eyes flicked to meet hers, for only a moment, before they flashed back to the walkie-talkie as it crackled to life again.

“ _Rusty is becoming…edgy._ ”

“ _Who or what in the hell is ‘Rusty’?_ ” Dean shot off.

“Giant mountain-sized behemoth of a dragon that breathes ice instead of fire,” Lupin replied quickly, before anyone else could pipe up with repeated agreements.

“ _…great_.”

“Valka, go see if you can calm him down and find out what’s bugging him. I think I’m almost back to where I first started out.”

“ _Um…that’s great. Think you could hurry, though?_ ”

“Why?”

“ _I think the queen bitch is here._ ”

Lupin stopped walking at that, her clawed feet scraping noisily along the stony edifice. Whiplash was quieter about his pause. The werewolf stared at her walkie-talkie, dumbstruck. Then she growled, her ears falling flush against her skull as she thrust the clip of the walkie-talkie back onto her belt and she took off running.

“Of fucking course she is!”

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

It took her a considerably shorter amount of time to reach her starting point than it had leaving it to find the nest. Several times, however, she and Whiplash had to scrape through tiny crevices or blast them apart completely to allow the both of them through. She was smaller and could fit just fine, but Whiplash couldn’t. So far, they hadn’t caused a cave in. So far, their luck held up, and so did the support beams. She felt their luck held up admirably for the moment, but it’d run out later on. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but it would eventually. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face that. Not yet.

A bit of good luck stringing itself out for as long as it could manage in the midst of all this crazy shit didn’t seem like such a bad thing in the long run.  

She could hear the sounds of a vicious battle underway long before she saw it. She and Whiplash slowed as they made their approach to the exit to the cavernous network. The Night Fury pressed closer toward the tunnel wall. She followed his example, slipping to his side and using his dark scales to hide behind. She had a limited scope of the view beyond, but it was enough.

The fire circle hadn’t been lit. The rooftop of the house closest to the cave entrance was empty of any of its shooters. There were gunshots sounding off in the distance. Bellows of rage and bloodlust and hunger punctuated every crack of a gun, like thunder after lightning. The smell of blood was heavy in the air. Human blood. _Anthropophagi_ blood. Dragon blood. Perhaps gargoyle as well.

Something wandered across the cave threshold. Low and small, pale-fleshed and snuffling. It was an _anthropophagus_ , but it was small and thin. A cub. It snuffled the ground, its shark-like maw silently gnashing teeth against one another as it went about. It was covering the entrance in lazy figure eight circles.

Sam and Dean had bled all over the ground, to attract the monsters. Perhaps it was trying to root up a scrap of flesh out from the ground beneath all the blood, like a hound trying to find a tasty morsel dropped from the dinner table. It was steering clear of the Nightmare spit that encircled the cleared grounds between the mountain face and the homesteads beyond. Perhaps they had somehow sensed the trap, and bypassed it completely. Maybe the others didn’t get the chance to react quickly enough to ignite the spit. Either way, it hadn’t worked, and now only its noxious stench filled the air.

_Well, that plan was bust, but can’t say we tried._

Whiplash began to rumble. Lupin smacked him gently, but the _anthropophagus_ had already heard. It snapped upright and let off a warning growl of its own. Jet black eyes stared straight at them, barely a few meters away, but even it couldn’t see Whiplash hiding so plainly in sight. She was tucked under his wing, his tail curled around them both. Whiplash stared down the _anthropophagus_ cub, teeth unsheathed and bared, but no more noise issued from him.

The cub stared a moment or two longer, before it went back to its snuffling perusing. It let out a mournful bleating wail as it continued to unveil no fleshy goodies in its search. Whiplash crept along closer in absolute silence. Lupin remained behind him, allowing him to take point. The Night Fury suddenly leapt, leaving the werewolf exposed as he easily covered the distance between himself at the cub. The cub didn’t have time to react. It screamed as the Night Fury pounced bodily upon it, slashing its gangly limbs out, tearing at Whiplash wherever it could.

Whiplash roared back in absolute rage, his wings flaring open as his voice completely drowned out the cub’s. He rose up on his hind legs, front paws rearing to crush down on the little monster. This _anthropophagus_ , however, was small—much smaller than the ones he’s helped dispatch. It wasn’t as well pinned. The cub wriggled away and narrowly missed being hit by Whiplash’s front paws as they came crashing back down to the ground. It leapt in a flash, latching onto the Night Fury’s left paw with its jaws. Whiplash wailed in fury and agony, flailing his tail and wings, rearing up and batting at the pale little beast clinging desperately and stubbornly to his forelimb. It even managed to finally get its little hooked claws buried in his shoulder to further cement its purchase.

This made Whiplash angrier. He snatched one of the creature’s leg up and crushed it. The _anthropophagus_ cub, to its credit, continued to cling out of sheer desperation and pigheadedness, but it wailed through a mouthful of dragon flesh.

Lupin rushed forward, dropping into a slide in time to avoid getting clipped by Whiplash’s lashing tail. He was thrashing too wildly for a good shot. She drew a knife instead as the peak of her slide came to an end, reached out and yanked hard on the cub’s other leg and stabbed hard in its vulnerable spot.

The effect was almost immediate. The cub’s wails ended instantly with a rattling breath, its body went limp, its hold on his paw slackened. She managed to give it two good yanks before the jaws released, if reluctantly. She flung the body away. Whiplash moaned and collapsed on his side, holding his paw awkwardly, gingerly, off the ground and crooned miserably as Lupin stood and scuttled to over to him. Lupin reached for him, but hesitated, her hands hovering over the freshly wounded paw.

She flicked her eyes up to meet his gaze. He watched her with those wild green eyes, and the clarity that he usually held in his stare was clouded with pain. She dropped her gaze to assess the wound. The bite hadn’t been terribly deep—the cub’s mouth wasn’t that big to begin with—but the damage was clear. He was bleeding and he would need stitches, most likely. She didn’t doubt he couldn’t fight. It was a question of whether he wanted to, and whether she felt she wanted him in the line of fire again like that. They had been lucky so far.

 _But luck runs out,_ she grimaced. _Of course. One bad move and it could go south again._

Lupin was torn from her medley of thoughts as gunfire rattled off once again, one-two-three, pop-pop-pop, then silence followed. Her breath hitched painfully as the seconds ticked by, slow and painful. Her heart jolted at the draconic roars that followed suite shortly after.

Whiplash made to stand, and managed to do so without letting his injured paw touch the ground. Lupin waved him back down. Whiplash stared at her, puzzled, and burbled questioningly.

“No. Just—no. Stay here. Stay, Whip.”

Whiplash snorted, tilting his head at a meaningfully stubborn angle as he remained standing, adamant. Lupin stared back, dumbfounded.

“No! I’m not letting you back out there with those… _fucking things_! Look at your paw! You’re lucky it was just this little love bite! If that had been a full-grown thing, you’d be lucky a little mangling is all that you got away with!”

The Night Fury yowled back at her, as if he was saying _‘I don’t care, I’m going!’_

To emphasize his point, he began limping his way forward, wings partly unfurled and ready to snap open at any given moment. He paused a little ways from Lupin, glancing back at her and jerked his head forward. The look he sent her was obvious enough: _‘Well? Are you coming?’_

The werewolf hesitated, glancing at his paw—still curled above the ground, dribbling blood, glistening in the pale light of the stars. “Are you…are you sure?”

He grumbled back at her, impatience lining his rebuke. She remained rooted to her spot, not entirely convinced, before she took a few faltering steps forward. Every step grew with reluctant confidence. They still had a job to do. They still had things to finish. Standing around arguing with a dragon who didn’t even speak the same tongue as her wasn’t getting her anywhere or anything except maybe a headache. Lupin swung herself up onto the saddle, gripped his sides with her knees and grabbed hold of the handles in front of her. Without a word passed between them, Whiplash launched himself into the air, hurtling well and over the tops of the Viking homesteads.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

Everything had turned into a clusterfuck the moment he and the others got that transmission from that Lupin chick about the matriarch slipping past her.  

None of the monsters, the _anthropophagi_ , had stepped a foot in the circle of flammable dragon spit, like they had been hoping. Not even with blood splashed about inside it had tempted any of them. Not even the cubs. When four adults, three cubs, and one especially large pale beast came gamboling out of the caverns, they had stopped dead in their tracks, right before crossing that line.

If these things were ugly when dead, then they were uglier when they were alive and whole and unbloodied. They were just ugly things in general, Dean decided. Ugly and just a smidgeon smarter than he would have liked them to be. It was easier when monsters just walked right into the killing ring, or appeared right in the middle of a devil’s trap or in the middle of holy fire, or when things just went right, period.

The biggest monster, most likely the matriarch, sniffed the air like a cautious wild dog, gnashing those big teeth inside that huge mouth in the middle of her chest. She rumbled, and the others began creeping along the edges of the dragon spit circle. The three gargoyles decided that now was the time to dive in and they went in with a roar. It startled him, it startled Sam, but it also startled the _anthropophagi_. They hissed and yowled and gnashed their teeth in response. The matriarch herded the cubs away, as the four other adults ran on to launch their counterattack.

Dean leveled a rifle down at the monsters, but he hesitated, finger on the trigger, barrel swaying back and forth to try and follow a target and line up a good shot. None were presenting themselves—not very easily, and not without hitting the gargoyles.

He found it kind of funny that he was hesitating from hitting one monster while trying to nail another.

“Sammy!”

“Yeah?”

“Any good shots?”

“Not on my end,” Sam admitted. Dean let off an exasperated groan as he glared down at the monsters scrabbling all over the place. He could light up the dragon spit circle, trap some of them inside. But that meant possibly trapping the others too. He deliberated on the decision for a few seconds, but not for much longer. If it weren’t for Sam’s warning, his head would have been taken off by a club-hard hand tipped with barbed claws. He felt the rush of air tearing overhead as he ducked and scrabbled away from one of the monsters that had tried to blindside him by climbing up the side of the building they were on. Sound died away as the sound of automatic gunfire broke off behind him as Sam fired his rifle. The _anthropophagus_ screamed as bullets ripped into its pale hide, streaking the ashen white with splashes of red gore. The ringing came after Sam hauled him up to his feet, no doubt asking him if he was all right. He shook his head when he saw Sam’s lips moving, but no sound came from them.

Exasperation turned into grudging understanding from his brother. Sam instead began to motion wildly down where the impromptu battlefield was located. Dean turned his gaze over, glad for the distraction as the ringing continued. At first, he didn’t understand what he was staring at. Then he realized at what he _wasn’t_ staring at.

No gargoyles. No _anthropophagi_. Just angry furrows in the earth, spatters of blood—whether it was his and Sam’s, or new additions of monster blood, he wasn’t sure—and not much else.

Sound was coming back now, although he felt as though he had thick swabs of cotton stuffed deep into his ears. Sam tugged on him with his free hand, no doubt shouting at him in an attempt to get through to Dean, but the words weren’t discernable. He scooped up his rifle and followed his younger brother, scrambling down the side of the building.

The rifle in his hands felt bulky and heavy in his hands. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle it, far from it. It was simply alien to his hands. He was used to using pistols and knives and impromptu weaponry that were needed to kill monsters, gods, ethereal beings. Using a semi-automatic weapon was simply a new one to add to a very long list of Things That Kill Monsters Dead he’s had to use.

Disorientation chewed away at him for another agonizing minute or two, where everything sounded muffled and distant. A tiny scrambling _something_ came hurtling itself at him and Sam as they made it groundside, presumably screeching all the while, if the faintly muffled higher-pitched noises it was making above the constant ringing in his ears were any indication. He shouted at Sam to duck, and his brother did so on instinct, head already turning on a swivel toward the monster just as Dean brought his rifle’s barrel down to bare on the monster.

One-two-three, in quick succession he pulled the trigger. Pop-pop-pop, the bullets went, slamming home into the little creature. The kick from the buttstock wasn’t even that bad, he noted absently. Two shots were center mass, tearing through the gaping maw, the third he had to force himself to go low for the crotch instead of high for a head that didn’t exist. The monster tumbled over itself, dead before it even hit the ground running, limbs flinging limply as it went. Sam’s barrel was trained on the thing as they crept closer, but the monster didn’t move. It was small. One of the cubs.

They both carefully lowered their weapons. The ringing in his ears was finally subsiding, and when Sam asked him a question, the kneejerk reaction to ask him what he just said was swallowed back down with ease.

“Think the others already took the rest of them out?”

“Doubtful. C’mon. We can’t wait around much longer.”

“What about Lupin?” Sam queried, hesitating and remaining rooted to the spot.

“What about her?”

“So, what, we’re just going to leave her behind?”

“Dude, they slipped right by her. That’s on her. She can catch up if she wants, but we can’t stand around chatting it up to wait.”

“Yeah, but you saw that map she had. There’s a ton of tunnels they could have used to get by her.”

“She chose to go it alone in there. That was her problem. She was supposed to collapse the caves and she didn’t do that, apparently. Now her problem’s leaked over and made into our problem. We got other people—actual people, as in _human_ people—to worry about. Now, let’s go and get these bitches before they get us and everyone else.”

Sam stared at him, brow furrowed and reluctance painted painfully across his face, before he sighed and nodded, striding after Dean.

 They kept a hurried but cautious pace, checking one another’s blind spots as they rounded houses and down dirt-packed streets. The curled bowers of dragon heads hung over their heads with gaping wooden mouths, casting menacing silhouettes as they passed them all by. Every flicker of movement was met with the barrel of a rifle thrown in its direction, until they were sure there was no threat.

They could hear the angry, inhuman roars from the gargoyles thrown across the village from time to time. It was only when it was quiet—much too quiet for much too long, did either of them realize the unsettling disparity. Sam was the first to do so, snaking a hand out to still Dean as he quietly pointed it out to him. They both stopped and listened. A chill wrapped itself around Dean’s spine as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Something was watching them. He could practically feel it—

“DEAN, LOOK OUT!”

Sam’s warning came too late as something large and something heavy slammed into him from behind, sending both him and it flying out into the empty square beyond. Instinct drove him to drop his weapon, bring his arms up to protect his head, but even then he knew he would probably be lucky to walk away without a concussion rattling his skull about.

When he stopped, his limbs were sluggish and unresponsive, despite the deeply ingrained mantra of ‘ _getupgetupgetup_ ’ playing on a constant loop in his head. He heard a groan off to his side and managed to roll over to his hands and knees, seeing one of the gargoyles lying on their back, looking like how Dean felt. He could make out the gouges and patches of blood marring their body here and there, evidence of the out-of-sight fight they had endured minutes before.

“Hey—hey, get up—”

A burst of gunfire had him snapping his head toward the noise without thinking, his body tensing in anticipation for them to be coming for him. That was before he heard the maddening howls that followed suite. Another of those little hellion monsters was making a mad scramble for Sam. A jolt rode down Dean’s spine, freeing up the ball of ice and turned into a red-hot rage. Dean dove his discarded rifle, just as the shadow of a giant fell over him and the overwhelming stench of decay and death engulfed him.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

The sounds of battle were quickly dying off, the but gunfire was rattling away still. She could hear voices, distinct and clear, mixed with the screams of the _anthropophagi_. Whiplash was already banking his wings, twisting in midair, falling with style towards the chaotic clamor. Lupin felt the adrenaline coursing through her veins. It was an old friend, this itchy anticipation, that overpowering surge to shove forward when everything else was trying to push her back. Running toward the sound of chaos instead of away from it. Wasn’t that the kind of dick-hardening campaign the Marines would just love? Riding on dragon back with a battle cry on the lips, fire coursing through the veins, with a sword in one hand and an M16 in the other? She snorted.

Christ, that kind of commercial would outlive the last dragon-related slogan they had going years ago. Everyone would be frothing at the bit to try and join the Marines if they had a dragon-flying unit…

Contact with the ground came quicker than she expected, but she was already rolling out of the saddle. In fact, she nearly toppled right out of it when Whiplash whined, his injured paw giving out beneath him the moment he tried putting too much weight on it. Lupin placed a hand on his side, gently hushing him.

“Easy, buddy, easy. You’ve done enough tonight. Stay here. I’ll take care of everything. Okay?”

Movement caught her eye and she whirled, a hand reaching for the pistol at her side. There was no need for silence anymore, why bother? Her hand barely wrapped itself around the grip, ready to yank it out of the holster when she stopped suddenly, relaxed, left the gun alone. A snowy-white hide was making its way toward her, but it wasn’t an attacking _anthropophagus_. It was Snow Chaser, another member of the Night Fury clan that Whiplash belonged to. She was a gorgeous dragon, her hide pure and unblemished like freshly fallen snow, her eyes like drops of rubies set within her skull. It was a far cry from the otherwise aptly named moniker of ‘Night Fury’ for her. Even Valka had appeared stunned at the white Night Fury when she laid eyes on Snow Chaser, admitting that while her knowledge was limited on their kind, she was sure that white scales were an abnormal colouration—the rarest of the rare amongst an already extraordinarily elusive species.

Snow Chaser slinked closer, burbling softly to Whiplash. Lupin backed off, allowing the two to settle together. Snow Chaser turned her bloody gaze on Lupin, silent as the grave as she regarded the werewolf. Lupin held her stare for only a moment. She lingered, hesitant to leave, but she had a job to finish.

“Keep each other safe,” was all she said before she turned away. A soft, sharp exhalation was her only answer from the white dragon. Whiplash warbled a farewell, partly grudging acceptance and partly worry dogging after her every step, but neither of the Night Furies followed Lupin.

She took off at a jog as soon as she rounded a corner, just as another series of gunshots went cracking off, punctuated by the terrible screams of the _anthropophagi_. She was close—

Lupin just barely hit the deck as a body flung itself in her direction, howling madly as it went sailing past. The tips of its claws scraped along her arm, rending flesh apart. A whirlwind of a limbs flailed in an attempt to clumsily redirect its body back toward her bought her a few precious seconds to draw her gun. Those few precious seconds were all she needed to fire off a few rounds. The body of a cub toppled over in a boneless heap, dead before it even hit the ground. Lupin snarled as she stalked over and grabbed the little beast by its limp arm and began to drag it behind her. Her arm was already healed, but there was still the ghost of pain lingering where the claws had raked her. Her whole body was nothing but a throbbing ache, and if she thought she was feeling it now, she wasn’t looking forward to the morning at all.

She was still dragging the cub as she found herself drawn to the stench of blood and gunfire, of warnings being bellowed out. The open square she came upon was occupied already, by Sam and Dean and Lexington. The latter two were lying on the ground, Sam looking on in shock. It was the flicker of pale flesh that caught her attention. She was already firing her pistol, hitting it dead center in one eye, then the other, and lastly, in the vulnerable sweet spot. The monster that had gone running full pelt toward Sam toppled over before ever reaching him. The younger Winchester looked visibly shaken, but it only lasted for a few split seconds as his darted around, looking for where those shots had come from before landing on her.

She didn’t stop to acknowledge whatever thanks he might have had to say or show. She was too busy staring at the sudden appearance of the matriarch. The queen _anthropophagus._ The headless top bitch.

Rage was already reaching a boiling point inside her, growing white hot and prickly as the wave of rot and death reached her. It was so much stronger with it coming from the monster herself rather than a lingering aftermath of her presence, like back in the caves. She was huge in height—just as Hellboy had said, she was nearly nine feet tall. Most werewolves were that big.

She wasn’t impressed.

She was more worried with her being so close—too close—with a mouth full of bad news to Dean. Sam took notice of her as well, startling visibly, drawing his weapon to bare on the matriarch.

“HEY!”

The word was sharp and crisp, cracking like a sudden bolt of lightning. It had the desired effect. Eyes snapped up to pay attention. In the matriarch’s case, it was just one eye. She was half-blind. One of her eyes had been completely gouged out, leaving behind a puckered lining of scar tissue healed around the hollow socket where a big black orb should have sat. The matriarch growled low and deep, her body hunched down low, too close—much too close—to Dean. She had one hand braced on the ground, the other hovering just above Dean, perhaps having stopped just in time before impaling him on her talons. Lexington was still out of it, but the matriarch wasn’t interested in the gargoyle. She wanted Dean. She wanted Sam. She wanted every human she could get her huge barbed talons and shark-toothed maw hooked into. Everything else was just a chew toy to be played with.

Lupin had decided the moment she and the others had been attacked by the first _anthropophagus_ that she wasn’t going to let that fly. No way, no how. It didn’t matter if she liked any of these people or not. She wasn’t going to be the asshole who let them die, not at the claws of things like them. Whether they liked it or not, they were all in this together now.

Lupin whipped the cub’s body up and out into sight, letting it dangle in front of her. It lolled without resistance. The matriarch snarled softly, her hand hovering over Dean slowly dragging back without touching him. He stared between the monster towering over him to Lupin. She could hear his heart racing, his breathing forced into a semblance of control—but that’s all it was. A show of control. A farce. But even she could see that he was used to this. Close calls, on the brink of death. The matriarch was watching her, she could feel it. That jet black eye was just staring down Lupin, trying to burn holes in her. The matriarch prowled closer, stepping over Dean without a care, as though he suddenly didn’t exist any longer. All she cared about was her cub and her cub’s killer come to gloat.

“Yeah, that’s right. Get away from him, you bitch.”

Dean rolled out of the way. Sam was skidding over to his side, never taking his eyes off the matriarch as she advanced on Lupin. She remained rooted to her spot as she dropped the cub. It crumpled without ceremony. She gave the body a kick, sending it flying, limp limbs flailing as it sailed toward the matriarch. The _anthropophagus_ ducked out of the way, gnashing her teeth, a hiss rattling past her jagged teeth before it turned into a mournful wail. She crept closer toward the cub’s body—so small and fragile looking in comparison to her hulking frame. Her mourning turned into rage, a scream of vengeance piercing the air. She twisted on her heel, ready to charge at her cub’s killer—but stopped dead in her tracks as soon as a wall of flames sprang to life, trapping her behind a surge of heat and light.

Her rage turned to fear the very second the flames closed their circuit. Lupin strode forward, her eyes locked on the matriarch. The big monster was too busy panicking to notice the werewolf as she drew closer—and stepped right through the fire, unharmed and unfazed. She didn’t notice the werewolf as she abandoned her gun in lieu of her knife. She couldn’t afford to shoot wild—even with an absolute certainty she could kill the matriarch, she was conscious of the fact that there were others in the area, just behind the matriarch. A through-and-through bullet through one person could hit another. It wasn’t something she was willing to risk.

She said nothing as she thrust the end of her blade through the matriarch’s backside, right up to the hilt, and gave it a twist for good measure. The pale beast barely made a noise, other than a soft dying hiss, before she too fell. Just like the rest of them.

The moment her body hit the ground, Lupin willed the fire to die as well. It winked out of existence without ceremony, without preamble. No hand waving, no head nodding. Behind the curtain of searing red and yellow, Sam and Dean stared at her, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. It wasn’t in awe or amazement at the display. It was wary distrust, all over again.

Lupin felt a lump growing in her throat at that, a bitterness coating the back of it for good measure as she stared them down.

_Back to square one._

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Notes: Phew! This chapter certainly was a doozy! I’m sorry that it took so long, but at the same time, I’m not sorry for taking the time to make it this large! I wanted to wrap up the monster-hunting segment, and it took a lot longer than I would have liked! It has hints of relevance to the plot, however, so it was necessary to keep it all in. The others that showed up not too long ago but then disappeared will be back too, including those that are newer faces. The plot will march on. XD**


End file.
